#every day I live in a major city I take more psychic damage

[butch--dean]

Counting down the days until I finally find my wife (gender neutral) and we can leave the god forsaken city for a small rural town

[ephemeral-afterlight]

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

ooh!!! okay, hmm....... well i'm sure i'm not gonna come up with anything original, but i love superhero aus!

in this universe, everyone kinda knows each other (as humans—they don't know each other's superhero identities yet!) and they all live in a similar area and have mixed friend groups, but they have to balance their regular lives and their powered lives. this world is similar to our own, but it's not the same! it's set in the future, but it's almost dystopian, and much more gritty. there are things like slavery and a prominent presence of dark topics in this, so be warned!

logan would be the main character (main point of view) and leader of the "good side", and his powers would be mind-based—he can use telepathy, telekinesis (and can therefore fly), and can manipulate all forms of technology. he's smart, but that's less about his powers and more about him just Being Like That. his powers allow him access to a lot of classified information and have made his senses extremely sharp, but his intelligence doesn't only come from that. he's the leader because he's collected, level-headed, neutral and unbiased (he still fights for the greater good, but he won't immediately pass judgement without context), and he always thinks ten steps ahead of whoever he's battling to emerge the winner. he tries his best to always understand who he's going up against to make sure that he can 1. win and 2. not fight someone who isn't actually on the other side, which has kept them all out of trouble on numerous occasions. he acts as a mediator, is always the one who has to stay stoic and unyielding no matter how much he wants to break down sometimes when the stress gets to him, no matter how much he wants to complain or cry when he gets injured like everyone else, no matter how much he just wants a hug after a particularly brutal battle, no matter how much the responsibility of being the leader and decision-maker and the one who keeps their team together is weighing him down more and more every single day. it doesn't matter what he wants, because his calculated demeanour has been beaten into him since he was a child, and he couldn't disappoint his father, now could he? so he sits quiet and bears it, no matter how much he flinches when something reminds him of that cellar and those chains and that shiny metal. he's the leader, and he's sure as hell gonna act like one.

roman fights very close to logan's side, covering all the bases logan can't. although logan is by no means helpless without his powers, he still relies too much on his telekinesis to fight, and his physical strength and hand-to-hand combat is something he must be vigorously trained in before he gets into a situation where he is left unable to use his psychic abilities in battle. until then, roman picks up the slack—his strength is unmatched, superhuman, and his style of combat revolves around aggressive attacks that don't let the enemy catch their breath. roman can create any object from nothing, but it cannot stay materialized for long, so he has learned to adapt to that ability and use it to it's fullest potential. and sure, he thinks his powers aren't as cool as the others' are, hates how useless he feels, like he isn't an asset to the team at all. that maybe they'd be better without him. but he'll bite his tongue, pretend like the energy shards dug deep into his heart don't exist, and play the hero for another day.

patton is on their side too, but he doesn't like fighting, so he stays in the backline a majority of the time. his powers allow him to heal injuries (although not those that are fatal), manipulate emotional states, and can give a temporary boost of strength and adrenaline to someone for a short amount of time. he doesn't use this often because it saps away at his own strength, but it's still a viable option if the opponent is too strong. he can't stop the immeasurable guilt he feels any time he has to fight someone, the darkness and sadness lying in a blanket over his heart making him wearier and wearier day by day, but if he can just help one more person, he'll gladly smile and bear it.

dee got his powers much later than everyone else, but he serves as a protector. he can create impenetrable shields, put the enemy's vision and hearing out of commission temporarily, and can create sentries that he can command to do whatever he wants, whether it's to fight or to round up civilians and get them out of harm's way so dee can focus solely on the fight. logan, roman, and patton only found out about him when the three of them had been overwhelmed by an enemy, seconds away from defeat, and dee had jumped in to put up an energy shield to save them. he uses long, electric whips made of pure energy that barely seem to have a physical form, but they sure as hell hurt. nobody really knows much about him, or why he decided to save them and continue to fight, but they figure that they shouldn't question extra help, right? it doesn't matter that patton can sometimes feel a deep, acute, aching pain from him, doesn't matter than roman has noticed the strange glowing symbols on his whips, doesn't matter when logan notices those exact same symbols glowing on the cuffs around his wrists and shackle around his neck that becomes very slightly visible when he thinks nobody can see him. it's fine, right? right?

remus is one of the "villains" they fight a lot, and his chaos knows no bounds. he's extremely unpredictable partially because he doesn't fight on one particular side. he just does whatever he thinks is fun, whether that's helping the heroes in a battle or being the one the heroes are fighting against. he can alter reality (impermanently) to create confusion, such as making a bouquet of roses turn into moths that fly in your face. patton is terrified of him, roman thinks he's a nuisance, logan wants to know what's really going on, and deceit just wants him to stop turning his whips into really long worms. he doesn't seem evil or like he's ever trying to actually hurt the heroes, but half of what he says never makes sense, so his intentions are impossible to determine. they pretty much just let him do whatever he wants, since he hasn't killed a single civilian in the time he's been active. he never seems to stay in one place, constantly bouncing around, never one to stay put. over time, it reads less as excitement and more like caution, and suddenly the scars littering his body become more and more concerning.

and finally virgil, who is the main villain they fight against. he's rash, angry, and abrasive, constantly littering the fight with insults and jabs. he seems to care very little about the fallout of their fights, and collateral damage is something they come to expect when fighting him. he conjures violent storms, lighting and hurricanes and tornadoes and thunder so loud it could take out your hearing. he's like a shadow, slipping in between the crevices, easily sneaking up behind you to deliver another devastating blow. they all are extremely wary when he appears in the city, ready to have another massive fight with plenty of structural damage to the buildings around them. but then one day, he stumbles to them, looking confused and absolutely nothing like the villain they know, and he remembers nothing about being said villain. he's just a guy, a normal guy with a normal life, normal friends and a normal family and— and he doesn't remember anything from when he's supposed to be at home, the days that line up with villainous attacks. he's been an unwilling participant in this game of heroes vs. villains, an enemy who doesn't even know they're an enemy. and upon digging into this mess, they all uncover some seriously dark shit going on in this city, a plot for destruction and takeover using mind control, and virgil has been the very first test subject of this mysterious figure pulling the strings from the shadows.

so, uh. this got long! but i love this au already and would gladly talk more about it if y'all wanted 👀👀

[anxminxjae]

Hi friends! Speedy here with the character that will be my only sweet summer child in this rp and must be protected at all costs. Sure he’s a trained shadowhunter but he’s also just... the softest, kindest boy who knows nothing about anything and is too trustworthy for his own good. 

Give him something fizzy and flavored with chemicals and he’s yours, bay-bee.

(also it is so late/early in the morning for me so I will make any edits... later lol)

Ok, here’s the skinny on Min...

> He was born and raised not only in the hidden country of Idris, but in the bordering mountains far away from the city of Alicante and really any other children his age.

> Basically the kid was raised in a secluded monastery of sorts where he was trained by his family. Being that the An’s have a long history of psychic abilities (and were generally considered as suspicious or outcasts in Idris because of this power) going to a traditional academy was out of the question.

> Not that Min knew any different. Though he was the youngest child at their monastery and had no one his age to talk to or play with. His parents were both much older, closer in age to grandparents, when he was born. 

> Honestly, much of his childhood was spent like Ana from Frozen, youknowwhati’msayin? Like talking to the pictures on the walls, well-meaning but often getting in the way of older family members.

> Despite his loneliness he threw himself happily and wholeheartedly into his studies and training. Learning how to fight sure, but also manage his psychic abilities. How to meditate deeply on decisions. How to connect with the world and the space around him.

> A side note about his psychic abilities: He didn’t really start to noticed his power until he was a pre-teen. It’s focused on precognition: concerned directly with the possible future. > He can see various paths in front of him, all of the probable outcomes of every possible circumstance. < He used to get horrible migraines but has since learned to sort everything out in his head. (He’s definitely not as cool as Garnet)

> He can also mentally communicate with people but really only does that when he’s messaging his parents. This takes major concentration and when he’s trying to reach someone far away he has to be sitting down and meditating. It just adds another layer of noise he has to keep track of in his brain.

> The first time he knew he was different he was 12, on a rare trip with his parents to Alicante. The other kids weren’t... the nicest to him. They called him a freak, said he had demon blood in him because he saw things, laughed at his family -- the way they lived, how they valued the simple things in life. It left Min more confused than angry because... that couldn’t be right. They didn’t even know him. Always the optimist he had hoped that they would greet him with open arms even if that wasn’t the most... probable.

> But their tormenting only encouraged him. That was the day he made the decision to prove them wrong! To kill em with kindness, that’s the way! To prove that he was just as skilled and just as worthy to do this work as anyone else!

> He trained even harder. Buried himself in his studies. And quickly became one of the greatest fighters his monastery has ever produced!

> And what did he do with all that he learned? He... stayed in the monastery. It seemed like his family was most concerned with the passing down of knowledge and meditating on the future instead of living in the present. Something about saving their energy to help protect Idris when inevitably something would come to tear the place apart. They believed were meant to act as a watch and Min, albeit bored (god he was so bored, longing for something more) felt a strong duty to his people. So he stayed. And meditated.

> That is until he saw an out when a dome, 100s of miles away in a little town in the United Kingdom, was suddenly going to disappear.

> He convinced his family that his services could be used elsewhere. That there was something about this little town in England that was a hub for demonic activity. He foresaw the veils being damaged permanently. He wanted to do his part to help. (He wanted to finally live).

> So off he went, for the first time in his life leaving Idris. And boy is there so much this boy doesn’t know about modern life.

> He recently brought himself a cellphone he doesn’t know how to use. He also knows nothing about pop culture or junk food or anything a millennial should be well versed in.

> That said he is LOVING every minute of it. It’s a culture shock sure, but one with things like candy and reality television and that’s just neat. He can’t believe how big the world was, and how much he had been missing.

> He is in a constant state of amazement about virtually everything and every one so please excuse him if he doesn’t pick up on certain social cues. He is a sweet cinnamon roll too good for this world. You can spill soup in his lap and he’d not only apologize but buy you a case of soup as collateral.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #257

I hope y’all are behaving and staying inside. This’ll blow over, folks.

Have you ever met a guy for coffee? No. How often do you get called on your home phone? We don't have a landline. Do you feed your leftovers to your dogs? We don't have a dog anymore. When we had them, we very rarely did. Mom did so more than me, and I wouldn't give them anything if they were begging. Except chicken nuggets with Teddy. There was no denying him chicken nuggets. Do you like salt on your popcorn? Yes. What tricks does your pet do? Well one is a snake and my cat doesn't know any because since when do cats obey you lmao. Do you believe in psychics? No. When you hear the name “Ginger” what do you think of? Jason's old fatass dog. What is the worst damage that your car has seen? N/A Who is your least favourite character on your favourite television show? In Meerkat Manor, fuck that, I loved them all, lmao. Well, I remember I was bitter towards Rita/Amira for killing Rocket Dog's pups, but even then I knew that was meerkat nature to ensure the survival of their own offspring. That '70s Show, definitely no one. I adore all the characters. For Fullmetal Alchemist, honestly, there are SO many that I don't remember probably even half of them. BUT, from what I do remember, Nina's dad whose name evades me. You watch it and you know why alkdsjf;kaldjw. Have you gotten sick this year? No. When was the last time you got a new ringtone? Eons ago. Where do you put your keys when you get home? They're always in my purse. What’s your phone background picture? Lock screen is a cute as fuck picture of Mark, home screen is two meerkats. If you could move to any country, what would it be? Realistically, Canada. Have you ever seen a snake in the wild? Plenty of times. Do you have any posters, paintings or other artwork on your walls? A LOT. My walls are cramped; it makes it feel homey to me. Would you ever take a trip to space if given the chance? Nah, too long of a journey. How do you cope with anxiety? Watch YouTube more attentively, listen to music, nap, take one of my anxiety meds. Are you expecting any phone calls or emails? No. Who makes you laugh the most? In my "real life," my dad. Out of anyone that includes those I don't actually know, probably Shane Dawson. He's a Mood, constantly. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you? Oh, plenty. I have like the most common white girl middle name out there. What did you have done the last time you saw a dentist? I had a cavity filled. What does a successful relationship look like to you? Both ends are happy, communication is ideal and easy for the pair, both feel loved and accepted fully, and each has healthy freedom. What do you like to put on your baked potato? The ordinary butter, cheese, and bacon bits. What field of science interests you the most? Genetics. What’s the closest shop or restaurant to your house? A Zaxby's and McDonald's are tied, being right across the street from each other. What was the most memorable birthday you’ve had? My 16th is the one I remember best, but not in a good way. What is the best house you’ve ever lived in? Our last house, aesthetically. Right in the woods and relatively pretty, yet simple. Do you look in the mirror before you leave the house? Yeah. Have you ever seen someone quit their job in a dramatic way? No. Do you know why your parents named you what they did? No. I think Mom just liked the name, though. What do you like to dip your fries in? Ketchup, mostly. Is your house clean or messy right now? It's actually really clean right now. We've had a lot of help around the house recently thanks to family and friends with Mom's cancer, and then I've been much neater and attentive to cleanliness than usual because 1.) it's my responsibility to ensure it is for Mom's health and 2.) I dropped out of school so literally have zero excuses to not be doing at least one productive thing. What was the last email you received? That wasn't trash, it was from my old major's dean in school. She was trying to comfort me and give me options on what to do versus leave, but yeah. I'll 100% give it to the school that they deeply and sincerely care for their students, I just needed to go. Do you know someone who speaks without a filter? lmao me. Well, depends, I guess, actually. I know when to keep my mouth shut in some situations. What’s your favourite kind of museum? Science museums. Especially those with d i n o z. Do you believe in alternate universes? I'm open to it, especially with the mandela effect theories, but I don't think so. Whose house did you last visit? My older sister's. What games do you play on your smart phone? Pokemon GO (if I'm in an area w/ Stops to get balls) and Dragons of Atlantis. What kinds of decorations do you put up at Halloween? We don't really decorate anymore for Halloween, or holidays in general. How many tabs do you have open right now? Two. What’s something you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off? Try more sites to hopefully get a poem I wrote published, but that crippling fear of rejection tho. :^) What’s the first thing you check on your phone at the start of the day? The time. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah, I loved that as a kid. I’m guessing you’ve probably been asked this before, but which do you prefer - Coca Cola, or Pepsi? Coke. Pepsi is gross. Has your phone ever gone off in the middle of a class at school? No. Did you go to your school dances? Did you dance with anyone? Just two proms. We didn't dance tho because the music was shit. What’s your relationship with the last person you talked to on the phone? What was your conversation about? Like, talk-talked, no texting? Uhhh who was that. OH YEAH, my sister. My mom didn't answer her phone so she just called me to make sure she was okay. The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner?
 No, I never do. It just adds oil to your hair, and mine is naturally oily enough. Do you have an item of clothing that reminds you of someone? Tell me about it, and the person it reminds you of. I have a lot, none positive. If the last girl you texted told you that she was pregnant, how would you respond? Ask her who the fuck I need to kill. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well considering 1.) she's past menopause and 2.) she has serious ovarian and Fallopian cancer, I'd say that's pretty impossible. Who do you have the most text messages from? Sara. The last time you skipped school, what was the reason?
 Uhhh if you mean "skip" as in I had seriously no realistic reason not to go, I think I was just really tired. I tried not to skip unless I was having serious mental health issues. When did you last see or speak to someone you dislike? Why do you dislike this person? I actually don't know who that would be. When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? I rarely sing. I just listen. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yes. Does more than one person like you? *shrugs* Has your partner ever accused you of cheating, when you actually didn’t? No. Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? Jason. Of course I do sometimes. Other times I know it's probably for the better we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Do you like your middle name?
 I mean it's pretty, but boy do I wish it was more original. If your hair is long, would you ever think about having it cut short? Or, if it’s short, would you like to grow it long? I doubt it will ever be long again. Would you consider your parents to be strict? Dad never was at all; Mom sorta was when I was little. Do you have a mirror in your room? On the back of my door. Have you ever worked in food service? No, thank God. Do you often stay in your pajamas all day? I almost always do, unless I have to go out somewhere. I pretty much never leave my house ever, forget just quarantine, so like... why make more laundry. What are three YouTube videos you would like to film soon? N/A Do you ever listen to country music? No. What is your most severe allergy? Pollen. What’s the largest library fine you’ve ever had? Oh wow, no clue. I haven't been the library in millennia. Have you ever lost a library card? *shrugs* Name three literary characters you feel resemble you the most. UH yikes. This requires too much thought for me rn. Name three cartoon characters that resemble you, and say why. Ummmm I still don't know. Do you have a good doctor? I haven't seen her enough times yet to honestly say. Mom knows and likes her well, though. She's fine so far. Do you wear a watch every day? If so, what color is your watch? No, I never do. Does your phone alarm ever scare you? No, it's very peaceful. Which department store do you shop at the most? Wal-Mart. How old were you when you got your driver’s license? I'm 24 and am yet to have it. Do you have regrets? A good handful or two. Do you ever curl your hair? It's too short to do so. Do you know anyone who has coronavirus? No, and I pray I never do for my mom's sake. Out of all the big cities you’ve visited, which has/have been your favorite? Chicago is the only big city I've ever been it. Was pretty damn dope, though. Do you like dreamcatchers? I mean, they're cool. I don't believe in them being magical, though. Have you ever made a dreamcatcher, and if not, would you like to learn? No and no. Who was your high school’s biggest bully? I don't remember. What color was your graduation cap and gown? Red. Did you keep your graduation cap? I think I did. Did you decorate your graduation cap? Nope. What is your favorite part of nature? The animals within it. Do you use Photoshop? Yes. Favorite photo editing app on your phone? I don't have an editing app. Did you love or hate college? Well, considering I dropped out three times, guess. Favorite class in high school? Art. Favorite class in college? Idk. Probably Writing. Class you hated the most in high school? Math. Class you hated the most in college? Painting brought me the most stress. Do you know how to write in calligraphy? Not technically. Have you ever had a pen pal? No. Do you prefer brownies or cookies? Brownies. Man I could go for one. Favorite Girl Scout cookie? Those Reeses-ish ones. Did you ever go camping as a kid? No. Do you have hormone issues? No. Have you ever gotten a misdiagnosis because your parent(s) lied about you? Er, no? A shitty doctor has misdiagnosed me, though. Which Barbie doll was your favorite? I didn't even know there were "types"... Do you wake up to an alarm? No. When did you go to bed yesterday? Like, 8-something... I rarely make it past 9:30 nowadays. Do you live in a city, town, or in the country? The country. What color is your toothbrush? White. When was the last time you had a nightmare? Yesterday while I was napping. Woke up shrieking and scared Mom out of her skin. Tainted my mood almost the rest of the day. If you had a terminal illness, would you want to know? No shit I would. What was the last thing someone called you other than your real name? I don't know. If you could meet anyone who lived before your time, who would it be? I have no clue. Is there a candle in the room you are in? No. Are you currently taking any prescribed medication? More than I like. Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medications for it? Yes and yes. Who was the last person you felt you were wasting your time on? I don't know. One thing you’ve experienced that you thought you never would have? A suicide attempt. What was the last thing someone said to you that kept repeating over & over in your head? Ugh. If a random person were to look through the photos on your phone, is there anything you’d be embarrassed about? No. If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? No no no no. I need a reason to leave the house. I'm way more productive away from home anyway. What were you like in middle school? "The weird kid" describes it pretty well. If you could give one charity a million dollars, what charity would you donate money to? YIKES!!!! Now that's a question. Probably something for suicide prevention/awareness. What is something you’re surprised hasn’t been invented yet? The cure for cancer. It's incredible, just how many "possible" cures have been identified in nature, yet you like... hear NOTHING about it afterwards??? My conspiratory and "the medical industry just cares more about money" ass wonders about that a lot. Most disturbing movie you have ever seen? Paranormal Entity or The Rite. Has a life goal or dream ever come true for you yet? If yes, what is it? If no, do you think you’ll achieve it? No. And probably not. What one thing has always bothered you, but seems to bother no one else? Hm. I'm sure there's something. Do you still own a VCR and VHS tapes? No, pretty sure they've all been sold. Did you ever build furniture forts as a child? Yep. What kind of dog is your favorite? Pretty sure I'm biased towards beagles. Are the majority of your friends male or female? Female, I think? Have you ever considered dropping acid? Noooo sir. Would you consider yourself to be mature? Mostly. Describe your music style: I like unique alternative stuff. Catchy, heavy riffs do me in easily, too. I like well thought out, dark, and impactful lyrics. Are you close to any of your aunts/uncles? Not very. Have you ever had a seizure? No. When was the last time you were in a hospital? For myself, 2017. I think. Do you go on vacations a lot? I never do. Are you self-conscious around other people? Very. At your workplace, are you required to wear a uniform? N/A Have you ever witnessed a physical fight in real life? Huh, good question actually. What was your GPA in high school? 4.2/3 or something. Do you use a lot of hair products? I don't use any. I mean, besides shampoo. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent at one time? My own money, I think $300 on a tattoo. What is the best pizza place out there? Domino's. I'm such a basic bitch. Do you know how to play any odd instruments most people can’t play? Nope. When was the last time you used a disposable camera? I think the zoo visit in 5th grade. What is your favorite book series, if you have one? Can't say I really have one. It definitely used to be Warriors by Erin Hunter, but I haven't read any in maaaaaany years. Do you have any celebrity autographs? Nah. What is your favorite color of clothing to wear? Just black. Admit it – you want a Snuggie. What design/color? I got a black one one Christmas, lol. They're honestly not all that great. Do you prefer movies at home or movies at the theater? THE THEATER. I actually enjoy watching movies in the theater. It's just the vibe, I guess, and the size of the screen so you take in everything. How many songs does your iTunes have? Just over 1k. Its memory is maxed out, oof, so if I want a new song, I have to thin the library out. Do you take a shower in the morning or the night before? I've been taking showers more often in the morning, lately. It's a nice, refreshing start to the day. I'm just too tired and unmotivated to at night. Who’s your youngest teacher? N/A When’s the last time you had a rock, paper, scissors match? Wow, no clue. What’s your favorite anime? Fullmetal Alchemist. Did you cry when Ash let his Butterfree go with the other Butterfrees? Oh I probably did, but THEN AGAIN, the female was FUCKIN PINK so I'm sure I was also happy for Butterfree lmao. Even as a kiddo, I knew pink was The Shit. Skinny, flared, ripped, or faded jeans? Skinny, ripped ones. What are you excited for? Just honestly, nothing in the even remotely near future. Nothing in my life is exciting rn. Are you part of the Farmville cult? Never played. Have you ever stood on a frozen solid body of water? YIKES besides like, small puddles, definitely not. I'd be scared to. Which person from way back when would you love to hang out with? Jenna, an old best friend, came to mind first here. It'd be great to catch up with her. She called me in the hospital after my suicide attempt despite not talking in absolutely forever, and I'm never going to forget that. Does your family use a real pine tree or a plastic one for Christmas? Plastic. Literally the only positive of the real ones is the smell. Otherwise, it's a mess that dies too quickly. Do you have any foreign exchange students at your school? N/A What’s your second language? I'm not fluent in it, definitely not anymore, but the language I took for four semesters was German. Is it uncomfortable for you to take showers in glass stalls w/out curtains? OH MY GOD I would positively hate that. Even IF I had a decent body. Did you understand Shakespeare? I was alright. What was the last shot you got? It was a numbing agent into my gums. They had to do it like... seven times. Apparently, I'm just like. Really hard to numb. Ever gotten cavities? Yeah. Do you use hair ties as bracelets? I don't even wear hair ties. What was the last school project you did that you couldn’t wait to turn in? Uhhh... I don't remember. Have you ever graded papers? I actually have; I was helping a teacher on work day. I used to go back to my elementary school a lot to visit my favorite teachers. What was your favorite year of school up to this point? Maybe like, junior year of high school? Or senior. I don't remember which one of those I enjoyed more. I just remember I loved my art class, I had great grades, my relationship was strong, yada yada. What’s the latest you’ve ever woken up? Like 5-6 PM. Had a busy night and that evening was a complete panic attack because my system was so thrown off. One thing I DON'T miss from high school: how bad my anxiety was. Can you recite the alphabet backwards? NOOOO I cannot. Like, at all. Are you a sucker for foreign accents? Some, yes. Do you do yoga? Not anymore.

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 11: Cirque Macabre

On the road from Mornheim to Bad Herzfeld, we can’t even have a day off in peace.

Good Morning Baaaaaaaltimornheim~

We wake up in Mornheim along with the Fairgolds, having crammed all six of us into one room at the overcrowded inn. We see behind the scenes into Flynn’s hair care routine. What, you think he looks this dashing naturally? He has product for his beard and moustache. 

Flynn is sicker than he was after Valeria gave him the Pat Pat of health yesterday, but better than he was when he came in. He had advantage to his roll today, for Reasons the DM won’t disclose. He’s putting up a brave front, and is definitely putting some extra effort into looking dashing and healthy. Somebody get him his fancy hat!

Meanwhile, having spent the whole night in close quarters with Valeria, Clem, and Fiona, Shoshana wonders: why is every woman she meets improbably jacked? What even is her life.

The plan, just to recap: We’re heading to a place called Bad Herzfeld, because we’ve heard it’s overflowing with the rare herbs and plants we need as spell components for the ritual we found in the manor house, which should purify the water supply of Mornheim. (Somebody’s been sticking their Taint in the water. HURR HURR)

We take a moment to question why, if it was a mage working in the von Mornheim manor, are the ingredients of the spell so druidic, and the spell written in archaic Old Valdian like a druid might speak? Druids live in the woods making friends with badgers; this was a bona fide wizardy laboratory. Shoshana rolls to see if she can figure it out and nat 1′s. What do you mean this isn’t what all wizard shit looks like? 

Valeria also rolls to figure it out and rolls...not much better. Maybe there was a druid squatting in an old wizard lab? Who knows. Magics is magics.

We have a thin, unfulfilling soup for breakfast, and then split up to prepare for travel.

Valeria immediately heads off over by the city gates. She tells the DM that her activity will need ten minutes, and that “you know what I’m doing.” The rest of us  have to wait in suspense.

Shoshana stops in to double-check on the doctor; she’s realized that it’s pretty likely that any corpses will get up just like Sokolov did, and she’s pretty sure the locals have figured that out but needs to double check. Turns out that yes, the Doctor has been burning the bodies. Cremation isn’t common in Valdia; if you live in a forest, funeral pyres tend to set the trees on fire. But you do what you gotta in a zombie apocalypse.

Clem organizes her kit and sharpens her sword, then takes a little while to read through the Sturmhearst journals she picked up from the book merchant. There’s an article about research into “replacing lost limbs with synthetic troll blood made of fungus.” Given what we’ve just found out about fungus people... thaaaaat could be bad.

Gral interrupts her reading to awkwardly ask Clem about when he used his magic lutestrings to wooble her. “How did it feel? I’d like to make sure I don’t kill someone by accident.

Clem thinks about the experience, which did come with a chunk of psychic damage. “It wasn’t painful, or necessarily unpleasant?” she says, thoughtfully. “But it was unpleasant in its unexpected nature. Like when the surface of a pond starts rippling – but you’re made of air instead of water – I dunno if I’m describing it right? But it was like that.”

Gral sits down next to her. “After acquiring the strings, my best test subject was self. You get used to it quickly. Maybe it’s not good to get used to it?”

Clem nods. “Yeah, it’s probably bad to get used to it.” She shows the journals to Gral to get his opinion, since the orcs have had skirmishes with fungal zombies before. The paper details the formula derived from a strange new fungus, but doesn’t really give any details about the fungus itself, so Gral doesn’t have much to go on.

As they flip through the journals, they also find a paper about fungal infection and potential treatments, by a Professor Alma Ulmus. Useful for Flynn, perhaps?

Clem med checks well and grasps the concepts pretty well. The paper details several techniques for dealing with fungal infection. There are some theories about ways to selectively target the infection with necrotic damage and certain medicines/poisons. Unfortunately, the techniques tend to come with hefty risks to the wellness of the patient, since you’re basically injecting a toxin that is mildly more deadly to the fungus than to the patient. It’s chemo, basically.

(We go down a conversational rabbit hole re: magic cancer and magical chemotherapy techniques, and have to get wrangled back on track.)

None of the treatments are outlined in enough detail for us to use. Mostly it’s an update about ongoing research initiatives, in case anyone wants to give the good Professor some grant funding.

(”The results aren’t peer reviewed yet - Who am I kidding, Sturmhearst doesn’t peer review.” “They used to, back in the good old days!” says our ghost scalpel.)

Valeria has, meanwhile, found a decent spot to perform her holy ritual, and lets the other players know that “we” are coming to meet up with the group. The first player to realize what’s going on squeals a little.

Valeria, in fact, has cast Seek Steed. (Yes, the PHB calls it Find Steed, but alliteration is important!) 

Something is walking alongside Valeria, pressing its large reptilian head to her chest affectionately. It’s similar to the creatures we’ve seen pulling Lucinius’ cart but it’s thinner, taller, more fine-boned. It is a faintly glowing lilac color, with silver reaching up to almost its knee on one foreleg and its ankle on the opposite hind leg, with a silvery crescent on forehead. 

“Oh my god, it’s a crocodile,” Shoshana’s player gasps.

“It’s an ALLIGATOR,” Valeria’s player returns indignantly.

Valeria pets the cool dinosaur behind its skull and tells it its name is Aethis. (It’s named for the aether from which it arose, being a celestial mount.) Rack, in his divine kindness, also had Aethis show up with a very fancy saddle. It has a rose embossed on it, and as Valeria names the creature, “Aethis” appears embossed on the saddle in Draco-Aquilian. The reptilian mount is faintly glowing purple. 

Its pronouns are they/them, because it is a celestial being of divine energy that has taken mortal form for Valeria’s convenience; what even is a gender.

The rest of us stare. “...Where did you get that.” 

“Rack gave them to me!” 

“Just, like, now? While I was in the bathroom?” 

“There’s a ritual. It’s a paladin thing.”

Shoshana awkwardly waves at the lizard. Gral obligingly holds out his hand for sniffs. Aethis sniffs him. Heartened, Shoshana cautiously moves forward for awkward pats on the head, which Aethis accepts.Shosha awkwardly pats. Aethis accepts the pats. Gral(‘s player) is like I PLAY WITH THE PUPPY even though it’s an Alligator Horse.

(The locals are like, what the fuck is that thing??? Like it’s obviously a paladin’s celestial steed, but……it’s THAT THING. Former-Kyr Crabber is not around to miss his long-gone mount.)

We don’t see Aubrey around – she was on watch last night, so she’s probably sleeping. Skulbjor the troll is watching the gate. 

“Hi, folks. Oh, lookit dat. You didn’t come in with that,” he says, appreciating Aethis. And hey! More folks came in last night - the one that doesn’t talk and the one that talks too much. So where ya headed? Back into the necropolis for another mission?”

We tell him all about our mission for spell components and fungus problems.

“Alright, well, don’t got time to process all that right now,” he says slowly as his troll-brain tries to catch up. “Let’s say good luck and I’ll tell Lady Aubrey you went to get some medicines. All right, best of luck to ya. Stay away from that grove what’s north of the road, the watchman heard some things movin’ around in there. I like your new chomper.”

Skulborg proceeds to scritch our new chomper with one big troll finger. “Aww, ’s a good chomper.” Aethis accepts the scritches.

We leave the dreary town of Mornheim. And as we leave its twisted trees and grim orchards and rows of graves, we feel the sun on your face, and it feels a little like we’ve been holding our breath in all this time. The sun feels warmer and we all feel a bit more alive, having left that place.

According to our best map, some of the roads go through Dead Towns, which people generally go around. Traveling in the Cursewood is a lot of back roads these days. You take the main road where you can, but some places are just impassable now – disrepair, or spooky monsters, or sometimes a town just vanishes and people wisely decide not to go where it used to be.

The result of this is that all of us have maps, and none of them match. Being a cartographer is a very stressful job right now, okay? Luckily, a good Survival check keeps us on the trail. We’re going for a town called Three Oaks Junction, which is more of a permanent camp than a proper town. We can get a better map there. It’s basically a three-way crossroads of some major roads; a travel stop that has a large enough occupancy of tents and carts that it can function as a safe stopover and makeshift town. We’re about two days out from there.

How long do we have until the troll moot? Fiona starts signing, and Flynn translates. Trolls don’t exactly subscribe to the mail, so they’re very slow to get the word out and get together. It’s less of meeting and more like a short-term living situation for times of crisis. They rarely last very long – trolls are solitary because they eat a lot of food. A large population of trolls in one place needs a LOT of food, and a big gathering is only done in extreme situations where there’s access to large food stockpile. There hasn’t been one in at least 200 years; mostly they’re just talked about in old songs. So we have plenty of time, but we want to shut it down long before any momentum starts up. If we can stop trolls from hearing about the moot in the first place, that might be the best for everyone.

(As we travel, we have our usual silly arguments, this time about Aethis: Celestial war mounts do not need to eat, although war gators are obligate carnivores. So Aethis can eat meat if they want to, right? In that case, what happens to that food?

“HOW IT POOP, DM? WRITE THE LORE!”

“It’s not a real gator, it doesn’t poop!”

“It waits until it’s unsummoned, and then it poops ALL AT ONCE in the celestial plane.”

“Dude? Dude? Curse you.”

“Was that a....lore dump?”

“CUUUUUURSES.”

I am told to please excise this from the record. I absolutely do not follow instructions.)

We’re boppin along and making decent time. As we travel, Valeria rolls good insight and sees through Flynn’s stiff upper lip, and insists on pushing another Lay On Hands of curing disease into him. Again, it clears his symptoms but doesn’t end the disease.

It’s late afternoon when we see a decently sized cottage by the side of road. It looks pleasant! There’s flower boxes in the windows, blooming picturesquely. There’s a cart next to it, loaded up with furniture and stuff, and a sign nailed to a tree nearby that says “MOVING SALE! CURIOS, ODDS AND ENDS. COOKIES PROVIDED WITH PURCHASE.”

Valeria is intrigued by cookies. Clem always likes a curio.

There’s a young girl running about and an old lady in a rocking chair, out in front of the house. The young girl is carrying things from the house to the cart. There’s a little table next to the old woman’s chair with a tray of cookies, as well as a surprisingly sturdy looking box. The old lady waves. “Oh, hello!”

We come say hi. “Yes, I’m moving in with my daughter and my granddaughter here! Say hi, honey.” The little girl waves hello and continues to help pack the cart. “My daughter and her family say it’s not safe out here alone for old woman. I resisted as long as I could. I can handle myself, but just last week as Rosie here was coming to visit, a werewolf almost attacked me! So I figured it was finally time to pack up and go.”

(Yes, we picked up on the Little Red Riding Hood joke.)

Clem immediately insight checks the little old lady, and nat 20′s. She is being perfectly trustworthy. Actually, she’s playing up the helpless little old lady act a little too hard. Clem thinks that she might have killed that werewolf herself. She’s got no intent to harm us, except maybe rip us off a little.

Clem shrugs. We ARE a group of 6 well armed strangers and a war gator. She’s got every right to be a bit on guard and play up the friendliness. She’s legit.

“Most of the things I’m not bringing with me are inside. Go take a look around! I traveled quite a lot in my youth, and I still have a few souvenirs!”

Valeria ties Aethis outside – in sight but not right up on the old lady, who is not spooked by Aethis at all. (Valeria is slightly offended that everyone is a little spooked by them. They’re just a gator! Gators are everywhere, it’s not like they’re a big deal!)

We enter the charming cottage and, well...that’s not what we expected. It’s absolutely stuffed, and it’s stuffed with COOL-ASS STUFF. There’s paintings and trophies lining the walls. That’s definitely a giant’s axe hanging there, carved with ancient runes. There’s a sultry oil painting taking up most of one wall, a picture of a young woman halfway out a window, turning to face the camera, smiling wickedly and clutching a gem as she prepares to rappel out the window. There’s big ol’ treasure-chest-lookin’ chests and boxes everywhere. There’s an old Aquilian war banner, hanging as a decorative tapestry. Gral spots some Orcish artifacts.

Who IS this woman?! Maybe she’s the protagonist of our spinoff prequel.

The first thing Valeria does, of course, is cast Detect Magic to see what glows. A beat, and then she just starts pointin’ everywhere. EVERY-DANG-THING is magic.

Gral ponders sagely. “I’m starting to think she may have overplayed the helpless old lady thing.”

Let’s investigate for stuff we wanna buy! Gral would like a projectile weapon, or perhaps some armor? Or a nice brooch. He finds a pack of 5 crossbow bolts inscribed with some sort of rune.

The old lady sticks her head in to see how we’re doing.  “Ah yes, can I help you find anything? I know it’s a bit of a mess, I’m in the middle of moving.” She spots Gral holding the bolts. “Oh, those are Bolts of Heart Seeking! They’re quite nice, I think. They’ll run you at least a hundred. I was asked to get rid of most of the deadlier souvenirs…” Gral buys them. 5 bolts, each granting advantage on the attack and an expanded crit range.

Shoshana looks for something protective, given her terrible caster AC. 

“I’m sorry, dearie, I sold my old armor set a while back,” the old lady tells her, but she rustles in a drawer and pulls out a little bag. “This was big help back in the old days whenever I got cornered by some-” 

“Grandma-” interjects the granddaughter, warningly.

“Well! Anyway, this will make anything that breathes sneeze and cough! 100 gold, and don’t say where you got it if you use it for anything illegal.” It’s 3 doses of Dust of Sneezing and Choking. Shoshana considers, but passes.

Clem doesn’t have much money after splurging on her new armor. She’s gonna save it.

Valeria looks for - well, she wants books, also anything that matches the Order of the Rose aesthetic, since she just found Kyr Marius’ old dagger. She doesn’t find anything recent - maybe some stuff decorated with floral designs, but nothing that would have been lost in the Crusade at the Summer Palace. She does find a shrine to the trickster god Guile in one corner of the room, and more importantly, a collection of rare books! None are magical, sadly. 

Valeria picks up a book about an expedition to an ancient Aquilian flying city. “Ah yes, that one was a comp copy! It all happened maybe 40 years ago?” the elderly lady chirps.

“Oh, did you write this?” Valeria inquires politely.

“Oh, goodness, no, I didn’t write it – I’m in it!” Sure enough, the cover has a lovely picture of a dashing lady-adventurer who looks suspiciously similar to the one in the painting.

We ask her name. “Jolene. Or Josephine. Johanna, sometimes. I think I’m Jolene in the book. Yes, those were good old days…”

She holds out a rod with a grappling hook on both ends. “This old girl’s seen a lot of the world with me. I picked it up from that nice artificer in Galway. It produces ropes! You push this button to launch the grapple, see-” she says, demonstrating, “-and this one to wind it in.”

“It’s a clever bit of machinery,” Valeria admits. 

“Oh, he mostly cheated with magic.” We pass on the Rod of Ropes, but it’s caught Flynn’s eye. After a short bickering session of increasingly rapid hand-signs, he buys it.

Gral asks about all orc stuff. “That was all a gift from orc leader some years back.”

“Oh? Who was it?”

“Ven’shek was the last name. His people mostly called him One-Ear?”

Gral’s jaw drops, like an indie band kid who found out their grandma knew Les Paul personally. “YOU KNEW ONE-EAR?!”

Gral’s history roll gives him some context: One-Ear was a bard, and he was a pretty big deal. He had two ears; he was just deaf in one after rocking out too hard at one point. He’d fought an evil necromancer who was trying to animate mummies of the honored dead, leading a group of bards to put a stop to that nonsense. He unleashed a sonic blast so powerful it buried the necromancer in an avalanche, but also blew out his left eardrum.

The old lady seems unfazed. “Yeah. He had two ears! He kept wanting us to ask why, but I wasn’t gonna fall for that.” Hanging on the wall is a bona-fide autographed copy of One-Ear’s bard mask, similar to the one Gral wears. 

Gral is still Absolutely Gobsmacked. “He was before my time but I’ve always really admired his work!”

“Yes, good times. He wanted my help with retrieving a thing from a-” Her voice drops to a mumble, “-dragon’s hoard.”

We check out a few more items. There’s a perpetually bloodstained sword sitting in the corner, with teeth carved in the hilt, quietly whispering, “feeeeeeeeed” to itself, which we leave well alone. There’s Gloves of Thievery and a Handy Haversack for sale, as well as a small silver raven ornament that Ms. Jolene claims will deliver messages. “Oh, I got that little thing in the flying city! It’s an Aquilian device originally meant to carry messages between their cities. It’ll deliver a spoken message or a letter. If it can’t get there in 24 hours, it’ll come right back to you. I was sort of hoping to use it to correspond with old friends...”

Awww. We won’t take it away from her, then. We WILL pool some cash for that Haversack, though. “We had good times together. I’m a bit sad to see it go,” the old lady admits, patting it fondly. Sure enough, the small black-and-grey bag is there in her painting, on the hip of the sexy thief.

That’s about all the cash we want to spend, but the sun’s starting to go down and this seems about as safe a place to camp as any. Old Woman Jolene doesn’t mind.

Flynn takes the opportunity to play with his new Rod of Ropes. “Fiona, hold my hat! I’m gonna try it out!”

Fiona signs to Shoshana, which with a bit of insight she figures out means, “Can you cast Feather Fall?”

“Nope.”

Fiona signs something to Flynn.

“Thank you, Shoshana! I’ll be sure to shout if I need your help!”

He does some acrobatics off the roof of the house, but he hasn’t had the practice with this thing yet. “Shoshana, now would be a good time to-” He falls flat on his face.

Fiona does her weird cough-laugh at him as he dusts off with an overdramatic scowl.

That’s our adventure at Jolene’s Lifetime-of-Adventuring Surplus. Jolene’s Stolen Goods Boutique: She takes them just because she caaaaaaan.

Given what we know about Ms. Jolene, we all keep an eye on our purses that night. Luckily, it seems like she’s trying to downsize.

In the morning, Flynn is not doin’ great, coughing hard and looking pale. Valeria Lays on Hands again, negating his symptoms. But we’re gonna need a permanent solution eventually.

Shoshana rolls a mediocre medicine check. The illness is from the inhaled spores from the farmer’s son, and it’s mostly respiratory. Maybe Shosha could brew a tea that could help with some of the symptoms, but she doesn’t have a supply of the right herbs, and Valeria’s got the symptoms covered for now. Ah well, it was worth a try.

We get on the road and roll into Three Oaks Junction later that day. There are indeed oaks there, significantly more than thee. Like we expected, it’s more of a big camp than a normal town – there are a few permanent structures, like a sheriff’s depot, but most folks here are living out of tents. There’s a big marketplace where many traveling merchants and local farmers come to trade, sort of a perpetual bazaar.

Valeria & Clem work together to write up a letter to Ambassador Khoshev with the warning about the Red Hand’s assassination plans. They give Clem’s name and rank for veracity and slap Valeria’s noble seal on it to give it priority. Asking around, they’re told there’s actually a courier service with a permanent shop over by the founder’s statue. Bonus, not only can they get a message to the Ambassador, they can also get a message over to Holzog, where Clem knows there are messengers who could get a message back to her “caravan,” which she hasn’t mentioned to the other three before.

Clem and Val head over to Red Raven Couriers to send their letter. Clem also sends parcel of gems to her caravan, the ones that we found in the Mornheim manor, about 100g total. The halfling clerk asks if the packages have any valuables we’d like to insure. Clem insights him, he seems like a trustworthy professional instead of someone who’ll go through her mail for loot. “The package for Holzog is valuable, I’d rather delay it if it will get extra security. The message is the opposite - it’s urgent, and there is no material value.”

The package of gems will go on the next well-guarded stagecoach, and the message will go immediately on a relay of fast horses. Valeria makes sure to tip extra well. Red Raven Couriers: Leave at sunup, there by nightfall.™ (Disclaimer: this is not a guarantee of one night service. We do not travel by night. What, do you think we’re crazy?)

Their job done, they take a look at the statue of Three Oaks Junction’s founder. It’s a drow! There’s two captions, a rather short one in Valdian and a much longer one in the Drow language.

Valeria reads off the Valdian: THREE OAKS // TOWN FOUNDER.

Clem can see the Drow caption has the elf’s full name: “Born to Clan Shenkel on a Rainy Night Under the Shelter of Three Oak Trees.” Ah, that’s where the town name comes from!

Clem’s pretty chuffed! “I’m very pleased to see people who aren’t averse to drow in this area! There’s even a statue, and not a burning heap where the statue used to be!”

The folks at the courier are happy to share the founding story. Three Oaks was a skilled wagon repair-person, and set up a wagon repair station at a good high-traffic spot. It became a local fixture, she eventually settled down and built a real shop, and that was the start of the town!

Clem knows: If drow know anything, it’s how to fix wagons. And care for horses. Good for this Three Oaks for making an opportunity of it!

Towering over the town, a distance from the main thoroughfares, is a large black and white striped tent. There’s a circus, scheduled for tonight! Valeria gets excited about the possibility of Night Circus.  

Clem has never seen a circus. Gral has never seen a Valdian circus. Valeria has seen many traveling shows. Shoshana’s seen a couple significantly less fancy traveling shows. Flynn and Fiona are excited to go to the circus. Everybody’s like, yeah, let’s have a night off, let’s have fun!

We worry that Gral, as a performer, might be That Guy: “Their technique was horrible, frankly, I’ve seen better-”

We’re hype! Let’s get CIRCUS SNACKS. There’s spiced nuts and funnel cakes. Clem gets a funnel cake. Shoshana is deeply disappointed to learn that cotton candy has not been invented yet.

Valeria goes over to get some spiced nuts. The nuts stand is run by a red dragonborn, obviously named Bophades. (He tells us he has brothers, Joe and Ligma.)

Valeria doesn’t know how much to pay the guy, and we meme about it. How Much Could Nuts Cost, Clementine? One Gold? Ah, nobles.

A few performers are starting to walk around to work the crowd. Everything in the circus is black and white, like a fun theme. All the performers have pristine white facepaint.

We realize we should probably not bring Large Greatswords into a theater, so we stash Clem’s sword, Valeria’s tridents, and the Eyegis with Aethis. Hey, Aethis has the Eyegis, Valeria basically has a large lizard camera drone to look through! Cool. Valeria buys Aethis a live chicken as a snack, even though celestial steeds don’t need to eat. “We’ll come back soon, I love you~!”

Shoshana’s anxiety cloak is freaking out, but, like, it freaked out around the cool old lady too. Does this thing have a snooze button?

We all find our seats, passing around snacks and jostling with the crowd. Outside the sky is darkening, and Dancing Lights come up all around the tent, swirling and casting shadows. A ringmaster in a black-and-white jester’s motley comes out. The lights all focus around him, 

“Hello, everyone,” he calls to the crows, in the practiced cadence of a seasoned performer. “We live in troubled times. This wood is not a very fine place. So tonight, in this tent, open your minds and your hearts and join me as I take you to a kingdom far away - yet as close as you allow it to be! First, walk with me as we approach the land of my king. We must approach the borders, guarded as they are!”

Braziers burst into flame all around the perimeter of the tent with a big oooh from the crowd! Jugglers begin tossing batons between them, forming a high arch, which the ringmaster walks under. “Cross the border with me!” he calls. “These woods are dangerous place, but my lord’s marksmen are expert.” Each baton is shot out of the air at the apex of their arch by an arrow! The jugglers catch them expertly, and demonstrate that each arrow has struck the dead center of a target painted on each baton!

Gral murmurs an aside: “I have the memories of every orc performer who ever lived, I’ve seen better, there was this one guy-”

Shoshana dope slaps him. Shut up and enjoy the show, doofus.

After a pause for the audience to applaud the archers, the jester continues. “And now, our master, my king, is building a bridge! A vast river lies before us!” Performers come out, shaking a long blue cloth between them. “But fear not, we will cross it!” A pair of strongmen start heaving around big ol’ beams of wood, while acrobats start making their way across the tops of the whirling beams in an impressive display of balance and coordination. The beams are moved into place, and one strongman lifts ringmaster with one hand up to them. The ringmaster mounts the ‘bridge’ and walks across. “Ladies and gentlemen, the bridge builders!” 

There’s another round of applause. Clem and Valeria are enthusiastic. Even Gral is starting to get into it.

“But before we can approach the castle and visit my master’s court –” the jester warns us. We her galloping hooves (or possibly coconut shell) noises. “Ah, yes! Do you hear who’s come to greet us! The knights of the Black and White!” Everyone claps, the ringmaster throws something in the braziers, and the arena fills with smoke. As horses carrying stunt riders circle the big top, we must all make wisdom saves. Valeria is informed she may do so with proficiency. We’re  all lucky enough to save, except Flynn.

As the smoke hits Valeria, she realizes – there’s something wrong here. Once tent has filled with smoke from the smoke bombs – it was to set up dramatic entrance, but…the ringmaster’s describing this glorious kingdom where nobody has to fear any death or dismemberment,  where the power of his king is absolute. There’s something weird about the smoke. Something weird about the performers and their flickering shadows. She can’t quite place it...

The show has moved along. There’s a knife thrower, a fire breather, and a sword swallower performing now as the “village blacksmith” as the procession “approaches the court”. It’s a whole routine.

Something Is Wrong.

The ringmaster’s patter about this king has become increasingly creepy. Fiona is giving us the side eye. Meanwhile, Flynn and most of audience are slack jawed and enraptured. I mean, it’s a pretty impressive show, but the imagery is getting macabre.

The crowd is no longer applauding after each performance. Everyone is just sitting there, completely entranced. Clem murmurs, “Does this...usually happen at circuses?”

Valeria glances through the Eyegis. The camp outside is perfectly normal, no fires or thieves or anything this might be a distraction from. She cuts back to the here and now.

Right now there’s two guys with halberds, with acrobats dancing on tips, performing as the “castle guards.” Shoshana pokes Flynn, who doesn’t react at all as he stares unblinking at the black-and-white figures. Fiona scoffs - just a poke? Please - and slugs her brother in the stomach. He snaps out of his trance as he gasps for breath, sputtering “WHAT WHY WOULD Y-mmph!” as she slaps a hand over his mouth and shushes him.

Gral hisses, “If we make a scene, they’ll know. Pretend like you’re watching the performance!”

We all perception check. Gral figures it out: the entire time, those dancing lights and braziers have been casting wild, flickering shadows of the rapidly moving acrobats and the people in costume armor But he gets clear look under the acrobats for just one second, and realizes: they’re casting the shadows of skeletons. 

These are undead. The king the ringmaster wants us to visit is none other than the Pale King himself.

Clem is very glad she kept her warhammer on her.

There’s maybe 80-100 people in audience. If we act, the civilians might be collateral damage.

The bad guys wouldn’t know us by look. Maybe we pretend to be enraptured like the rest of audience and wait for them to reveal their big plan. That, or we could just rush the guy leading circus.

The ringmaster is narrating entering the castle gates. The smoke started the process, but clearly the performance has something to do with keeping it going. Shoshana’s all for casting Shatter into the center of the ring - maybe a loud enough noise will wake up the audience. Valeria’s not sure.

Gral and Valeria want to wait and see; Clem and Shoshana want to disrupt the performance before they finish enthralling the audience. Valeria’s player flips us a coin. Our answer? Disrupt.

We refocus in on the plot of the show. The audience has been invited into the great hall, and a feast has been laid out for us – there’s a huge table, with acrobats and jugglers doing a routine where they’re tossing around plates and chairs. We have to roll deception, and we do good enough that they don’t notice we’re snapped out of it, but the ringmaster is definitely scanning the crowd for anyone who’s not under yet. 

At this point, the macabre stuff has become overt. The “castle servants” are setting plates with skulls and crawling hand bones. It’s Obvious Curse at this point. We agree that this is a really cool, goth circus theme, but we would prefer it to maybe...not end with the whole crowd becoming zombies?

Gral decides to Dispel Magic the smoke. To hell with subtlety, we’re going for disruption. He stands up and strikes an echoing POWER CHORD!!! Rolling well, he dispels the effect of the smoke, shouting, “The show is over!” 

As he strikes his lute, a tangible soundwave goes out through the audience. A ripple goes through the smoke, and it starts to fade. The Dancing Lights flicker and come back up. With the spell gone, we can see clearly: the performers are still dressed up, but the acrobats, strongmen, etc. are all visibly rotting or skeletal.

The crowd, suddenly jerked out of the mass charm effect, predictably panics.

The ringmaster turns and looks directly at Gral. In his ringing showman’s voice, he bellows, “GET THEM. THE KING COMMANDS IT.”

Shoshana centers a Shatter on the table full of dancing acrobats, trying to get as many low level undead as she can. Bone shards fly everywhere as all but one of the skeletons explode into bits, with a deafening BOOM that drowns out the circus music. A shame, since this is a dope-ass circus.

(The DM comments: If we’d let it get to end, it would have definitely gotten a bit King in Yellow. We drew a red card at the end of last session, so we get to meet an Avatar of the Curse. This here is the Ringmaster, also known as The Fool.)

Clem, Valeria, and the Fairgolds dash toward the Ringmaster. Valeria has her adamantine wrench. Clem has her warhammer. Fiona has hers, too. Just three super buff ladies with hammers…and Flynn. 

“I’ve got an aesthetic, it’s called Swashbuckler? We don’t use hammers!”

“If he used a hammer, he’d be a Squashbuckler.”

“Or a Smashbuckler?”

“That’s alright,” he quips, summoning his pistol, “I’ve got another kind of hammer I can use…”

(”Is it his penis?” asks everyone who has ever seen Dr. Horrible.

“It’s the HAMMER OF THE GUN, it’s not his penis!” sighs the DM.)

Shoshana aims another Shatter on the remaining zombie strongmen and their table, but they have better CON than a bunch of bones, so it doesn’t have quite the dramatic effect. Flynn shoots the Ringmaster with his pistol. As the shot hits home, he drops the pistol and snaps his fingers, a second pistol materializing in his hand. This time the shot goes wild.

The Fool howls, “GET THEM!” and the two strongmen rush at our tanks, picking up chunks of table to wallop our melee fighters with, mumbling “In the name of the king!” in their garbled zombie voices. The Fool begins to rise into the air, which is never a good sign. He points at Shoshana and in an echoing voice demands she KNEEL. She flips him off. She ain’t kneeling for no floaty-ass pale-faced clown!

Gral Banes the strongmen and the acrobat. The zombies are zom-baned. Clem sees them waiting to clobber her with chunks of table and is like “I can take ‘em,” and rushes in, carving a chunk out of the nearest one. The zombies don’t seem to be trying to defend themselves - they’re just balls of rotting meat in between us and the real threat.  I mean, they’re swinging broken table legs at us, but they’re whiffing hard. Valeria casts Shield of Faith on herself and Cone of Colds them. One save, one fail. Thanks, Bane! (”I love Bane!” “I love you too, citizens of Gotham!”) The one who failed its save and got Clemmed is bloodied. Fiona, raging, does 35 damage in a single turn and bloodies the other strongman. Her mouth is open like a battle-frenzy scream, but it’s just coming out as a hiss.

Shoshana takes a thrown knife from the last skeleton acrobat, and brushes it off. Then she realizes that unlike the others who charged in, she and Gral are still in the middle of the crowd. A crowd that is freaking the fuck out.

Shoshana promptly takes more damage from getting Crowd Trampled than she has from the actual enemies. (Gral gets buffeted around, too, but at least he stayed standing.)

Hey, did you know that The Fool gets lair actions? Arrows, like the ones that shot down the jugglers’ batons, fly in, targeting Gral, Clem, and Fiona. They even seem to change direction in midair to target him. These are ghost arrows! (Which does make the whole baton trick less impressive in hindsight. Cheaters.) 

Shoshana staggers to her feet and throws a Chromatic Orb of acid at the Fool. Flynn’s sword burns with green flames as he brings it down on a strongman zombie. The flame spreads between them and burns at their rotted flesh. One of ‘em nearly smacks Clem, but Gral’s Bane comes to the rescue, and Valeria gets to Sentinel him! She brings the adamantium wrench down on him with two hands. CRONCH. 

Strong Boi #2 punches Flynn in the face – or tries. “Ha! My sister punches better than that!”

The zombie is like, “We’re fighting your sister! That’s a compliment!” Or it would, if this was The Road to El Dorado. Mostly it just grunts.

The Fool gestures grandly, and we all must make Charisma saves. Shoshana and Fiona fail and are Baned. (Hey, no fair using our own tactics on us!) Also, he’s calling reinforcements. We hear the hoofbeats of the stunt horsemen as they charge back into the arena. Without the obscuring magic of the smoke, we can clearly see these are skeletal steeds, ridden by terrible, ethereal spectres waving big ol’ cavalry sabers. They are not headless horsemen; they have heads. We vow to change that.

(These are Sword Wraiths, for anyone who’s keeping track. Also, shout out to Skeleton Horse from our last campaign, forever in our hearts.)

Gral Phantasmal Forces one of the strongmen. The zombie hears a terrible crunchin’ noise. In his mind, the nearly destroyed table has come to life! The shards of wood invert inward, and now there’s a big mouth chompin’ at him! He turns around and starts fighting a table. The Ringmaster facepalms.

Clem channels the scalpel ghost and makes an excellent medicine check. Professor Wendell hmms, and points out a weak spot on the one Gral has just targeted. Clem pops the darn thing’s skull like a weird melon. He died, knowing he was getting eaten by a table. RIP.

Valeria tries to charge past the other strongman, but takes a solid hit of opportunity and gets knocked to the ground. She gets back up and returns the favor. The acrobat skeleton - oh, we forgot about that guy - throws more knives! Have a Knife Day, Valeria. (It doinks off her armor harmlessly.) Fiona smacks at the last big fella.

The spectral riders form a second barrier between the tanks and the Fool as the strongmen fall. They throw some spears at Clem and Flynn. 

The crowd knocks Shoshana over again. This is how she ends: stepped on by frightened civilians in a puddle of popcorn. You’re all gosh darn lucky she hasn’t gone evil yet.

The DM makes a Secret Roll. It’s a success! Valeria’s the first to hear the result, a thudding of claws on hard-packed dirt, and then we see the crowd parting as Aethis the war gator charges toward us, bringing our weapons. They wanted to help! They did a good job!!! We’d give them scritches but we’re, like, in a fight.

We get hit by more ghost arrows, and then Shoshana drags herself to her feet and twins another Chromatic Orb, shooting lightning at both of the spectral riders, who up close look like elven nobles. She then hides behind a chair, in the vague hope that no one else will stomp on her. Flynn stabs one of the riders with his green-flamed rapier, and the flame flickers between both of them.

The remaining strongboi hits Valeria for a big slam, but no one’s looking at them anymore. The Ringmaster, hovering above, begins to distort his body horribly. He distends his limbs, extending his body to spidery and unnatural proportions, and leers at us all with a manic, wild grin. The melee fighters all make WIS saves. Valeria and Flynn are now Frightened of him. As his lips stretch into an even wider rictus, his head rotates on its neck in a deeply unnatural way and his fingerbones stretch out into slender, vicious claws.

Gral inspires Clem, and Dissonant Whispers the strongman. It instantly drops dead. (”You scared a zombie to death. Metal AF.”) The spectral riders close ranks with their shields, forming a barrier between the melee fighters and the Fool, but Clem and Dr. Wendel are READY TO OPERATE! Clem misses one, but maneuvers on attack 2 to try to trip a skeleton horse. Action Surge! She crits the ghost to death, exploding it into mist, its horse falling apart into an inert pile of bones. Her final attack goes to the other horseman with a Distracting Strike. I mean, she did just pulverize his buddy, that’s pretty distracting.

Valeria is afeared of the Creepy Jester (which is taxonomically distinct from a creepy clown, we are told to note.) She takes the opportunity to Lay On Hands herself. The DM is kinda surprised that paladins don’t have resistance to fear in 5e. OH HI AETHIS!!!! They’ve run up to Valeria with her sword and shield. What a good gator!!!! Valeria grabs the Eyegis, and her AC goes back up.

The lone skeleton acrobat is like why r u guise ignoring me??? and throws a knife at Clem. We continue to ignore it. Fiona charges the ringmaster, Clem continues to duel the remaining rider, and the unforgiving crowd continues to trample Gral and Shoshana.

Clem, Fiona, and Flynn all take hits from the ghost arrows. Fiona shrugs it off, but Flynn’s not looking too hot. Shoshana chugs a healing potion (because of freakin’ CROWD DAMAGE!) and dives behind a tent pillar.

The Fool cackles eerily, and everybody under 10 health must make CON save. He was trying to give us all taint, but everybody affected manages to save. He swipes at Fiona with his Horrible Claws, but she blocks with her hammer.

Gral Dissonant Whispers the remaining rider, who nat-1s. It’s scared bad, and Clem does the honors, catching it with her hammer as it passes by. “AH-AH, YOU ARE NOT DISCHARGED!” cries Dr. Wendell. As it flees, the ghost dissipates, and horse tumbles into a mess of bones, carried forward by its own momentum.

Now it’s Clem’s proper turn, and she’s gonna hit the Fool!!!! But first, Second Wind. Miss one, hit one, MANEUVER! Trip Attack! She knocks him prone!

Valeria rides Aethis to the Fool, then dismounts, and Aethis dashes to get to the acrobat. Valeria brings her wrench down on the Fool. She Smites him good. (He is undead, so smite does a Lot.) He makes a goofy OOF! Sound and begins to wriggle up from the ground, and then she just SLAMS him back down. Flattened. After a hit like that, I almost PITY the Fool.

Look, SOMEONE was gonna make that joke.

The acrobat throws knives at Valeria! It crits, but like, it’s a knife. Valeria doesn’t care. Fiona drops one warhammer and just pins the Fool on the ground, grappling him. Raging, she gets advantage. Pinning him down with one arm, she swings her hammer down with the other. He contorts oddly, moving out of the way of one blow, but gets hit by her second slam.

The ghost arrows are back! They all target Fiona. As the arrows slam into her back, she just grits her teeth and takes it. Barbarians, man. Shoshana’s shot goes wide on the Fool as she snipes from afar. Flynn saves against his Frightened condition and starts escorting the last few crowd members out of the tent.

The Fool tries to contort out of Fiona’s grapple, but she keeps an iron grip on his wriggling limbs. Gral decides to join the melee party and stab with his Psychic Blades, finishing off the avatar of the Pale King. The circle of phantom orc warriors again rushes in as one. As he slices into the Fool with his sickle, the jester’s costume tears like a cloth bag, and a bunch of choking black mist bubbles out and away. Inside, there are only the barest, faintest hints of a skeletal form. His weird painted skull rolls away, a head in a jester’s cap locked in a rictus grin jingling absurdly across the big top.

Aethis swats the skeleton acrobat with its tail. It’s dead now.

The circus is silent. The last vestiges of the strange mist are blowing away. The tent is eerie, dark and cold.

Valeria makes a knowledge!Religion check. With the context that this was a weird Pale King thing, she realizes what was bothering her at the start of performance: she’s never been to a circus or play that didn’t open with an invocation to Guile, the god of trickery, illusion, and the arts.

Shoshana lies on the ground grumpily. Aethis comes over and offers a friendly shoulder to help her up. Shosha is like O__O because she’s looking into a massive faceful of teeth, but gingerly accepts the help up after being nudged and sniffed a bit.

Those ghost arrows were flying in from backstage. Let’s check out backstage! We find some quivers sitting there, but the arrows seem to be inert now that the Fool is dead. There are a few musical instruments in the hands of some deactivated skellies and zoms, collapsed awkwardly to the floor. There’s lots of props, costumes, makeup - all the regular circus stuff, including a tour map of places they’ve been. One more for Valeria’s collection!

We find some high-quality stage makeup, which seems a little magic. It might channel illusion magic particularly well? Gral takes a crack at understanding it. It’s not itself a magic item, but it’s designed as a good conduit for illusion spells. Gral takes it. It has 5 charges of enhancing illusion spells. Valeria takes one of the charges. We find some finely ground crystal, which seems to be what was thrown into the braziers. Valeria takes it.

We also have the creepy elongated skull of the Fool. Clem only wants it because her player used to be our party warlock. Fiona wants to smash it. We COULD bring it to the Cursebreakers, like responsible adults, but we’re all like SMASH IT SMASH IT WOOOOOO

We also find a throne on a litter, under a sheet. Is there something on the throne?

Valeria Detects Magic. There’s a lingering magic clinging to it, but fading rapidly. (The makeup and throne have a lot of Illusion and Enchantment; there’s a lot of necromancy generally everywhere.) Shoshana lifts the sheet with her stick. There’s a skeleton sitting in the throne. Not even an animated one. It’s wearing a very nice costume robe and has a crown on its head. Clearly, it’s meant to represent the Pale King, and the culmination of the circus act’s plot, but whatever power it once held was probably coming from the Fool. It’s inert now. We smack it with sticks. It engages in normal skeleton behavior. We want it to be on the floor in pieces, which it finds perfectly doable.

We snag some posters labeled “Feste’s Circus Presents: Journey to the Great Court” and start to head out.

We roll against Taint, but we’re fine. The initial Wis save against the smoke was the big taint risk - getting drawn into story could have been a disaster.

Gral theorizes on what exactly the Fool’s gambit was. There was spell worked into the performance. Its effects weren’t physical, like the disease in Mornheim. This was more like an elaborate, highly modified Mass Suggestion, bringing the people into a susceptible state and then implanting the idea of the glory and power of the Pale King. This wasn’t an attempt to make more undead; this was an attempt to indoctrinate more cultists.

As we exit the tent we remember - oh, right, there’s a big crowd panicking.

Luckily, we have a charismatic and noticeable person with us. A Large Shiny Paladin Riding a Fancy Magic-gator shouting “There is no more threat here, everything has been taken care of, let us talk to the sheriff,” definitely helps - people don’t necessarily believe her, but they’ll obey and let themselves get corralled. Flynn, very experienced in the public relations aspect of monster-fightin’, helps wrangle and pacify the crowd.

The sheriff of Three Oaks Junction has been summoned, and pushes through the nervous crowd to Valeria. “Kyr, thank you, I hear you’ve save us all – what do we do about this???”

Valeria puts on her best commanding voice. “The villainous troop itself has been dealt with; we have no idea if there is any other magical danger in the tent. Is it safe to burn it down?”

The Sheriff nods. “Oh, ya, local fire ordinances meant we had enough clearance around it; nothing else’ll catch.” 

We get the townsfolk well clear of the area, and then Shoshana, whose player is appeased that she won’t start a godawful circus tent fire like in that documentary she saw once, Fireballs it. The tent burns merrily.

Flynn nods to his sister; it’s time for him to do what he does best. He rolls a decent performance check and steps into his role as Radiant Knight, dramatically recounting the battle for the shaken crowd. He focuses on making all of us look good, which is really nice! He lights up his sword with Green-Flame Blade as he gestures around with it, which is an excellent visual effect. He’s framed in front of the burning fire of the tent, and Gral performs an exciting score of back-up musical accompaniment. 

“And then Kyr Argent strode forward, her sword flashing...”

(whispers) “I wasn’t using my sword”

“Ssshhh, it fits better, he’s embellishing.”

As camera pans up, following the smoke into the starry skies over the Cursewood, we end session.

[entoman-created-by-the-tallgreys]

The Alien Mantid’s told it Would Happen.

Nothing i ever do ... Seem's to Work but neither any one else  

the Human race is like the mouse Utopia, Near the end Every one was attacking every one and every one was Retarded , and it Pair's up with The Last of Day's the end of day's and the iron age .... on the age's of Man ....

also No one will accept any knowledge and just about Every one has gone Crazy ! All of the Primate's have Gone insane ...

if you find anything Intelligent on the internet, it's better to not Share it becuz no one is going to have anything nice to say about it and over all no one is going to Learn .... Every one has Gone insane

i'm Making this as a fyi and A Message ...   

i Really Wonder why i Needed to live this life why the gray's Thought be a Good idea to Waste basically 30 Year's of my life  a agenda i never agreed to ... did i really need to suffer 30 year's of How Horrible humanity is and or Could be in the last of day's did i really need to Suffer humanity's Utmost Worst ??? did i Really Need to Suffer this ???? Why did this Haft to be my fate ???

And not even with my kin not a male not a female nothing ... I Hate being part of the hybrid agenda and Most of all i Hate Being so fucking Alone .... i Wonder how i'm going to repay the favor for all the torment the gray's gave me in this Life, i Wonder what wrath or Punishment i'll be able to hit them with in and as a Whole as a Major fuck You ! for this life .... for this Grand Atrocity of all Atrocity's ... Will Most Certainly ... 

NOT ! GO ! UNPUNISHED ! 

One Way or Another .... i Will Get Even, One Way or Another .... and Repair Mother Gaia i Never Wanted gaia to take Any Damage, i never Wanted Gaia to Suffer and then she Got Stuck with Humanity .... i Swear i'll get Even with the Gray's over this shit ....

And in the Prophecy i see every One Dead Ghost town after ghost town and every one underground is gone too every one is gone, every one all omni Absolute no one is Left  on the earth  ... but a few a very few Fraction's of fraction's of people aka the Other Hybrid's, i shit you not .... We are a Sub fraction in the world.

all of the bird's are Extinct, so are fish, and Mammal's and Above all reptile's there is not a Snake on the earth there are many bug's but ... that's it and there is a Hollow wind that Blow's  ...  

And all that is Left is Ghost town after Ghost Town, after endless Ghost's town and as the mantis's told me on the ship ...

It Might Take Me 2 - 3 Year's Before i find Any of My Kin ...

Another Strange thing is ... nothing in My Vision's, the Gray's Gave Me Show's them ... !!!

Any where on the earth but a few Ufo's in the sky and there all gone ... Forever ....

Humanity is Wiped out, Dead and Truly Gone, beside's all bug's, all other animal's are 100% Extinct, and that there that Hollow Creepy Breeze Blowing ... Swirling ... A Creepy eerie Breeze.  

Death is every where city have Collapsed, All Building's are Rotting, No More Humans to do any more Eco Terrorism ... and the Smell of all the awful man kind has done and created ... and Holy fuck + Holy fuck !!!  is it Quite .... No More Human's No one alive and it's all fated it will all happen .. i Fore saw 9/11 i fore saw the wild fire's all of them and the ufo's Very few talked about and there not even really my vision's thay where implanted into Me by the gray's the tall gray's and the mantid's, on the Ship Programmed into With there 3rd Eye. i think thay said or called it a Ritual, this All Happened when all the other Hybrid's where off the ship, ... And all the other Green Water tanks where Had no baby in there ... there was Nothing ... no one i was the only one left on the Ship ... thay Surrounded Me on the ship, i Was floating in my Tank Just a baby and did the Ritual and Programmed ... Everything into Me ...

And Now i See .... i as a Script ... and the Script run's out ... after the chaos it die's .... the Script ... .... a Psychic Computer Script.  

i See building's burning, i see No ! Wild Animal's and where ever at all no bear's no bird's no fish not nothing i think there might be a few cow's many thay all didn't die out but i'm not Sure ... i See Cow's and yet i see .... them as Faint as See threw... maybe i see the Ghost of Cow's ... for i swear i see no other life on the earth And Milk and Butter is dead ... No Cow No Butter .... i see no Squirrel's ... no Bird's ... i Know i've said that over n over in this Post but ...

It's one thing you never think you'd never see in your life aka No Bird's, that all of the Birds Omni all of them are dead.

i See no Dog's, no Cat's ... nothing just Endless Emptiness and a Quite, cold and Gloomy dead world.

i See Fresh Plant's Growing .... and I See Everything in the Store's Rotting ... and i See a world Going to Waste ... i see Religious Figure's Standing staring out into a Blank Nothingness of a world i see many Ghost, in Absolute Disbelief of what the world has Become to them and for them.

That Many dead can't even Fathom, What the fuck just Happen that all of Humanity is Really dead and Gone that everything of the Prophecy was not only true but 100% Accurate.

 Listen, i Don't Type this out to be Mean but a Head's up a fyi. it is fate you know ... and Also i See ....

i See a World of fae being Re-created, i See hive's being rebuild, i see .... The world Going Back to the fae, and it turn's into a Hive world slowly but surely. and there not a Human in Sight there are many Ghost but oddly there gone ???? there Not ??? on the earth ??? idk where thay were it like thay where all taken away ???

idk Maybe there in Hell ??? Maybe the Human Soul's Died and faded after death ??? 

i Don't See Many Poltergeist's ... i See Mostly none i see humanity's, is Truly Broken, and then there taken away to be forever broken more  ???? Hell ??? Tartarus ??? i see fire and darkness, and Angry God's. and all of Humanity ... did it upon them self but it was fated to end either way.  

And Now there is a closing, i see Humanity as Dust being blown away into the Past .. as a nothing and a never More, and the many 1000's of other animal's ... that once Walked the Earth gone forever. for thay did not belong here in the first place  

i see a new world ... and i know this is what thay mean by a New world Order.  

it's a new order a New world a ... Hive world and This is no fable no story i tell i Speak of now and the future as it play's out.  

and in the End, Earth is healed, it's fuzzy .. no, no i mean my 3rd eye is fuzzy seeing this far, but i see a Lush insectoid world i see a world filled with fairy's, i see a world, Clean and Healthy and i see a happy Gaia and all of her energy Rush's back, and The world is paranormal again i mean magical ... and gaia go's back to blessing everything and The world is a Real utopia, that will not end like the Mouse One.  

But god idk how far into the future i was seeing , 10 year's 20 year's ??? 50 ??? and after that the story Roll's on out as just a normal fairy world a hive world ... and Earth go's back to the fae, but let's zip on back to 2020 the past, humanity Fill's, The World, and Non of this has Played out yet, OH !!! And if you think C.e.r.n can avoid this your wrong it's Fate that mean's it's happing in all of them realm's as well.  

No Quantum can Avoid this, and i'm not trying to be rude. Any Way i Gotta Go,  And to who ever read's this i'm not Joking ... 

[96thdayofrage]

How an African-American psychiatrist helped design a groundbreaking television show as a radical therapeutic tool for helping minority preschoolers.

IN THE WAKE of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. on April 4, 1968, a newly formed group called the Black Psychiatrists of America began to challenge their white colleagues to think about racism in a new way. Its members had been discussing for some time the possibility of creating an organization that would address their lack of representation within the key bodies of American psychiatry. But now, as one of these men, Dr. Chester Pierce, later put it ”we anguished in our grief for a great moderate leader,” and it seemed that the time for moderation on their side was also over. In Pierce’s words: “As we listened to radio reports and called to various sections of the country for the on-the spot reports in inner cities, our moderation weakened and our alarm hardened.”

WHAT I LEFT OUT is a recurring feature in which book authors are invited to share anecdotes and narratives that, for whatever reason, did not make it into their final manuscripts. In this installment, Anne Harrington shares a story that didn’t make it into her latest book “Mind Fixers: Psychiatry’s Troubled Search for the Biology of Mental Illness,” (W. W. Norton & Company.)

Racism had led directly to King’s assassination, and not only had white psychiatry consistently failed to take racism seriously; it had, in ways both subtle and overt, enabled it.

The decision was thus made to organize black psychiatrists into an independent body that would use tactics of the civil rights movement to force American psychiatry to acknowledge both its own racism and its professional responsibility to address the scourge of racism in the country.

On May 8, 1969, representatives from the Black Psychiatrists of America interrupted the trustees of the American Psychiatric Association while they were eating breakfast, and presented them with a list of demands. These included a significant increase in African-American representation on APA committees, task forces, and other positions of leadership; a call for the APA to commit itself to desegregating mental health facilities; and a demand that any individual member of the society who was found to be guilty of racial discrimination be barred from practicing psychiatry.

The most fundamental demand made that morning, however, was that the profession begin to think about racism differently than it had in the past. Racism did not just happen because some bad people had hateful beliefs. Unlike many of their liberal white colleagues, who were fascinated by the potential mental pathologies of individual racists, the Black Psychiatrists of America (drawing on new sociological work) insisted that racism was built into the systems and structures of American life, including psychiatry itself. For this reason, as some of them put it in 1973, “institutional change (as opposed to personality change) are needed to root out and eliminate racism.”

Chester Pierce — the founding president of the Black Psychiatrists of America — was most concerned about the pernicious influence of one institution in particular: television. By 1969, virtually every American family home had at least one set. As one commentator at the time observed: “American homes have more television sets than bathtubs, refrigerators or telephones; 95 percent of American homes have television sets.”

Small children of all ethnicities were growing up glued to TV screens. This worried Pierce, because he was not just a psychiatrist but also a professor of early childhood education. And from a public health standpoint, he believed, television was a prime “carrier” of demeaning messages that undermined the mental health of vulnerable young black children in particular. In fact, it was Pierce who first coined the now widely used term microaggression, in the course of a study in the 1970s that exposed the persistent presence of stigmatizing representations of black people in television commercials.

It seemed to Pierce, though, that the same technology that risked creating another generation of psychically damaged black children could also be used as a radical therapeutic intervention. As he told his colleagues within the Black Psychiatrists of America in 1970: “Many of you know that for years I have been convinced that our ultimate enemies and deliverers are the education system and the mass media.” “We must,” he continued, “without theoretical squeamishness over correctness of our expertise, offer what fractions of truth we can to make education and mass media serve rather than to oppress the black people of this country.”

Knowing how Pierce saw the matter explains why, shortly after the founding of the Black Psychiatrists of America, he became personally involved in helping to design a new kind of television show targeted at preschool children.

The show had had originally been conceived as a novel way of bringing remedial education into the homes of disadvantaged children, especially children of color. Pierce, though, saw a different kind of potential for a show like this: one that could directly counter and counteract the racist messages prevalent in the media of his time. The issues for him were even more personal than they might otherwise have been: at the time, he had a 3-year-old daughter of his own. He thus agreed to serve as a senior advisor on the show, working especially closely with the public television producer Joan Ganz Cooney, one of its two creators (the other was the psychologist Lloyd Morrisett).

In 1969, the show aired on public television stations across the country for the first time. It was called “Sesame Street.”

It was not only the most imaginative educational show for preschoolers ever designed: it was also, quite deliberately, populated with the most racially diverse cast that public television had ever seen. All the multi-ethnic characters— adults, children and puppets — lived, worked, and played together on a street in an inner-city neighborhood, similar (if in an idealized way) to the streets in which many minority children were growing up.

Each show opened with scenes of children of different races playing together. Episodes featured a strong black male role model (Gordon, a school teacher), his supportive wife, Susan (who later is offered the opportunity to develop a profession of her own), a good- hearted white storekeeper (Mr. Hooper) and more.

Within a few years, Hispanic characters moved into the neighborhood as well. As Loretta Moore Long (who played Susan) later reflected: ‘“Sesame Street’ has incorporated a hidden curriculum … that seeks to bolster the Black and minority child’s self-respect and to portray the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural world into which both majority and minority child are growing.”

The radical nature of this “hidden curriculum” did not go unnoticed. In May 1970, a state commission in Mississippi voted to not air the show on the state’s newly launched public TV network: the people of Mississippi, said some legislators, were not yet “ready” to see a show with such an interracial cast. The state commission reversed its decision after the originally secret vote made national news — though it took 22 days to decide to do so.

“Sesame Street” would go on to become the most successful children’s show of all time. Over time, though, the radical mental health agenda fueling its creation was largely forgotten. Later critics would instead increasingly suggest that the show, as a straightforward experiment in early education, benefited white middle-income children more than its primary target audience of disadvantaged minorities, and in that sense had arguably partly misfired.

Chester Pierce, however, never lost sight of the hidden curriculum that, for him, had always been at the heart of “Sesame Street.” “Early childhood specialists,” he reflected in 1972, “have a staggering responsibility … in producing planetary citizens whose geographic and intellectual provinces are as limitless as their all-embracing humanity.”

What mattered most about “Sesame Street” was not the alphabet songs, the counting games or the funny puppets. What mattered most was its vision of an integrated society where everyone was a friend and treated with respect.

The program had originally been a radical experiment in the use of mass media to give the youngest generation of Americans their first experience of what Martin Luther King Jr. had famously called the Beloved Community: one based on justice, equal opportunity and positive regard for one’s fellow human beings, regardless of race, color or creed.

Anne Harrington is the Franklin L. Ford Professor of the history of science and medicine at Harvard University, director of undergraduate studies in her department, and faculty dean of Pforzheimer House, a 400-strong undergraduate community on the Harvard campus. She is the author of four books and numerous articles.

[catemagum]

          This has been a long time coming, but I wanted to talk about some of Sylas’ followers that I’ve created as NPCs. Yes, the majority of them are OCs of mine that were pulled in and used for just this, but they impact my interpretation of Sylas. These NPCs will be mentioned in replies, drabbles, and he may even feature some of their powers from time to time. I also decided to use this as an opportunity to really expand on how much foreign influence he has, and really showcase his allies from their respective nations. Of course, they’ve reached out in secret and met outside of Demacia’s borders, but Sylas has made quite a few terrifying acquaintances and friends. I will also update this post with new NPCs as I see fit, and will let everyone know when I’ve done so.

          If you ever want to interact with any of these NPCs, as I’ll be linking this post to the biography directly, you’re free to send in asks or inquire about roleplaying with them. This isn’t a multi-muse blog, but I do genuinely love these characters and would love to build on them more. With that said, just specify if this is the case!

          * Faceclaim names will be put beside the character name. All drawn image icons used feature art pieces that belong to me, either by commission or gift.

CASSIA WINCROFT   ---   RUTH CONNELL

          A beautiful and strong individual who wields powerful and wild fire magic. Wanted for breaking the Laws of Stone, Cassia has managed to evade authorities on Demacia’s outer borders for decades with her wildfires threatening their forestry and putting a wall between her and the mageseekers. Intrigued by Sylas’ cause and determination, she sees the fighting spirit and overwhelming potential in his eyes and was the first to ally herself with him. Over these short few months, Cassia has become almost motherly towards Sylas, ensuring he cares for himself from time to time whilst being the first at his side in dire times if possible.

          She finds Demacians amusing and toys with them for her own entertainment. While she isn’t one to endanger them purposefully, Cassia has a habit of forgetting the extent of her own powers. She and Sylas have an unspoken agreement that he may borrow her power whenever need be, and together they devastate the competition. She has burned down the homes of countless nobles with Sylas, and they are very rarely seen apart.

AMARAH KHAFRA & RASHAKEN

          Shuriman born with a brief involvement in the Noxian military, Amarah was known for her unique abilities granted to her by the desert god RASHAKEN. A wielder of pestilent magic, Amarah causes widespread disease through magic locusts and scarab beetles, creatures summoned from the pendant around her neck. All it takes is one touch, whether by her hand or her insects, to inflict an individual with crippling illness. Exiled from Shurima for leaving the deteriorated and half-eaten carcasses of Shuriman nobles, and leaving Noxus when they pushed into her homeland, Amarah heard word of the chaos unfolding in Demacia.

          Reaching Sylas through a few stray bugs, they met in secrecy within Demacia’s walls and formed an acquaintanceship. While she cares not for the freedom of Demacia’s mages, she is a loose cannon following discourse and Sylas himself has felt the power she wields. Gifting him a few messenger beetles, they communicate through her unique insect creatures while she returns to Shurima and scouts for new allies, undercover.

EVANORA STEROS

          A demonic being that had lived in the world of a damaged magic painting within the Immortal Bastion long before Noxus existed, Evanora emerged from her world when the Demon of Secrets was claimed by Jericho Swain. Since then, she led a pretty quiet life within Noxus’ walls, opening a small shop of magical   ( and cursed )   items and potions, becoming something akin to a traditional   ( and stereotypical )   witch. Gifted with the ability to travel to any place through a painting or photograph, whilst also capable of creating alchemical reactions with a single touch, Evanora’s curiosity got the better of her.

          She travelled to Demacia through one of many paintings she had acquired from a weary traveller, and found herself clad in their usual white and gold garments. She had arrived in search of trade, her goods for items she otherwise couldn’t find in Noxus, and had gotten caught up in an encounter between Sylas’ starting group of people and some nobles. Evanora minded her own business, but Sylas persisted when he saw the magic she possessed. He asked her to join him, and she agreed, insisting that she could bring him supplies from Noxus in exchange for things she needed. Agreeing, though wary of her Noxian status, he took a chance and has yet to regret it.

KIRAEL NOAVEK

          Kirael was born into Demacian nobility, and hated every moment of it. Her childhood was spent at home, sticking to the books and learning proper etiquette, always deemed too good for the other Demacian children. She was later discovered to have psychic abilities, things akin to the powers oracles held whilst allowing her to utilize basic telekinesis. Appalled by her magic and deeming her as a disgrace to their family, Kirael’s parents locked her away in their home and reported her as missing. Several years later, during Demacia’s first Harrowing, Kirael could not escape the cellar as the corruption crept in. A spectre came with it, and took Kirael’s life only to bring her with it. Welcomed to the Isles as their oracle, Kirael swore vengeance on Demacia for what they had done to her.

          Seeing Demacia’s future in a vision, Kirael headed for the shining city three days before Sylas’ escape. She arrived a day after and sought him out, travelling only at night and avoiding prying eyes until appearing before him. She shared her story, her mistreatment, and offered her psychic abilities to aid him. She would be his eyes for the future, so long as he would be her eyes in the present. Although it is unsafe for her to remain in Demacia for too long, she occasionally visits to share her information and to obtain stories from Sylas. Their close bond formed through similarities of imprisonment, and he values her and her connections to the Shadow Isles. It is said that when she lends Sylas her powers, she lends him her true sight   ( with the consequence of losing his physical sight )   so long as the physical connection is not broken. Otherwise, he inherits her telekinesis for a brief amount of time when they separate.

YUYAKO KUROSAWA

          Born in Ionia, Yuyako is known for adopting orphaned children in her nation. Afflicted with a terrible curse that allows her to raise the dead, Yu tries her best to ensure the safety of the children she adopts while also attempting to bring restless and vengeful spirits to peace on the side. She was once a prisoner of war after the Noxian invasion, told that she would either join Noxus and aid them with her powers or she would hang, Yuyako spat in the soldiers’ faces in defiance. Feeling the ancient corrupting energy in the ground below her, Yuyako needed a diversion for her escape. She brought back several soldiers of the Ruined King’s army to storm the prison while she managed to steal one of Noxus’ ships and set sail back to Ionia.

          During her time in Noxus, she heard of Demacia’s mistreatment of mages and found herself disgusted. In a nation where magic was everywhere and in everything, Yuyako couldn’t fathom suppressing it. Her heart bled for those affected, and although she doesn’t approve of Sylas’ more violent means of fighting the government, she isn’t exactly anything short of a fighter either. Willing to participate by more peaceful means, Yuyako is the one to aid Sylas in breaking mages out of prison so long as innocents aren’t killed in the process. Sylas struggles to use her ability, attempting to force the dead to raise for him, but she knows he can learn to ask and reach them with practice. It requires peace, not violence, and she hopes he will learn to settle down with her teachings. Of course, she always returns home once her job is complete, as her loyalty always lies with Ionia.

DRAKKAR

          A former Bilgewatian gambler who made a deal with a mysterious man, only to find himself later possessed by a wraith of sorts. With his body morphed into holding this malicious entity, Drakkar is capable of becoming smoke-like, whilst also choking others by bombarding their lungs with smoke. He is a terrible creature, known for slipping through the smallest of cracks and willing others to gamble their lives. He becomes stronger with each life he takes.

          He and Sylas met in one of Demacia’s bars, the mystifying man attempting to coerce Demacians into gambling with him. One was brave enough, and Sylas had walked in to see the bar shrouded in thick smoke and fog. Intrigued by this power, whilst Drakkar assumed the worst, Sylas instead offered him a place among the other mages. So long as Drakkar promised not to harm the mages of Demacia, he would be allowed to stay. Accepting the offer, Sylas now has a personal spy and scout. Sylas does not enjoy using Drakkar’s abilities, and avoids doing so unless absolutely necessary to make his escape.

JAECAR

          Drakkar’s son, or, rather, partner. He, too, was possessed by a spiritual entity and has taken up the job of a Zaunite medic. Unfortunately, he’s not one for healing, rather, experimenting. He specializes in turning anatomy into puppets of his, whether living or dead, and he controls them through terrible means. It isn’t unusual to catch a glimpse of severed limbs moving on their own, nor is it unusual for the corpse of one’s local soldier to shamble through the town at night. Suspicions of his activities grew larger, driving Jaecar out of Zaun before he was caught. While he does have healing abilities, he prefers to use them for unfortunate purposes.

          Hearing word of his father’s stay in Demacia, Jaecar used his anatomical puppetry to cause a distraction and slip past the guards. He found his way to Sylas, reunited with his father, and offered his services as their medic. Despite his questionable morals, he promised he would not experiment on the mages and would, instead, use the nobles they killed as his research subjects. All too eager to lend his power to Sylas, mostly for research purposes, Sylas finds himself at an internal war over using it. While he has no qualms with controlling the dead, he does find it a bit unsettling to control the living.

ENJORRAN

          Deep in the Freljord, there is one such individual that has suffered far more than most. Known as an assassin, Enjorran is a golem created long ago as a royal guard for the first king and queen. After so many years, those he was made to protect have passed and he finds himself without purpose, whilst hating the direction the Freljord has gone in. With his devastating ice abilities, Enjorran has made it his personal duty to restore the Freljord to its former glory, and has essentially become a menace to any who stand with the three current tribes.

          Sylas reached out to Enjorran on a whim, hearing of this mysterious and powerful golem from books Lux had given him. He was surprised to receive an answer by way of snow owl, a letter written   ( albeit poorly )   in response and affirmation of acquaintanceship. Enjorran agreed to seek out other mages in the Freljord, ask them for help whilst reminding Sylas that he cannot go anywhere near petricite. He has agreed to lend his aid however possible in exchange for some of Demacia’s plantlife pressed between books. He has never gotten to see nature.   ---   Although Sylas has never used Enjorran’s powers, it would be incredibly devastating. Able to cover an entire city of Demacia in snow and ice, Sylas hopes that he may be granted the ability to use this magic someday.

LUCINDA DAWNHEART

          An orphan from the city of Piltover, Lucinda was adopted into the Dawnheart family and registered within Demacia’s group of mages. She has since then hidden her talents, but is among the Demacian youth who suffers from the discrimination against mages and magic. Living within one of the annulment slums, Lucinda has been protected by the other mages and has used her magic to both help and save people from danger. Magic that takes the shape of large claw-like manifestations that hover over her, this young girl has become a favorite among Demacian mages.

          Sylas indeed witnessed her powers when scaring away a thief from taking their supplies, mages telling the tales of a young girl haunted by a violent spirit. They keep her magic a secret with such a tale, and she plays off having no control over this demon.   ---   Recognizing her strength, Sylas has asked her to continue to protect mages so long as she stays safe, but she isn’t one to listen. Lucinda has a fighting spirit despite the innocence she portrays, and is determined to fight alongside him despite his instruction. Sylas has used her abilities once, and consequently torn a mageseeker and their accompanying soldier to shreds to protect a child being taken from their family in the slums.

VEL’AAN & NAVRESHA

          Not much is known about Vel’Aan aside from the fact that they were raised in Ionia. Trained to be a formidable assassin, Vel’Aan was given a task to hunt down accursed objects within Ionia’s hidden passages. It was their job to uncover the country’s secrets, and on one day they did uncover something. Hidden within the ruined temple, guarded by mages of all sorts, Vel’Aan heard the whispers of a voice with enticing promises. They slipped in through a hole in the roof, unseen and undetected, only to be met with a sinister-looking mask depicting the face of a woman. Introducing itself as Navresha, Vel’Aan would be given power in exchange for the mask’s freedom. Agreeing and leaving with the mask in hand, Vel’Aan would never be the same after putting the mask on.

          Sylas sought this duo out when hearing tales of the accursed mask being free’d from its confinement, that a young shaman had appeared in a Noxian city and left more than half the town in comatose. Bodies mummified in branches and covered in white flowers that never wilt nor die, not dead but asleep with no means of waking them, Sylas was intrigued by these powers. He sent an invitation to where he heard Vel’Aan was hiding out in Ionia, and set up a meeting outside of Demacia’s borders. They agreed to work together, and Sylas realized the power’s potential. It was not violent, but peaceful, a calming coldness that felt as though he himself danced with death personified. All it took was one touch, and a body blossomed. The flowers bloomed and the body shut down to sleep. It was beautiful, a good means of disengaging people, and he felt as though together they could do great things.

More to be added in due time !

---   void mage ---   darkin w/ hemomancy ---   one ( 1 ) yordle ---   targonian w/ weird space magic

[bellphilip91]

How To Become A Reiki Master Uk Surprising Diy Ideas

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[yasbxxgie]

In the wake of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. on April 4, 1968, a newly formed group called the Black Psychiatrists of America began to challenge their white colleagues to think about racism in a new way. Its members had been discussing for some time the possibility of creating an organization that would address their lack of representation within the key bodies of American psychiatry. But now, as one of these men, Dr. Chester Pierce, later put it ”we anguished in our grief for a great moderate leader,” and it seemed that the time for moderation on their side was also over. In Pierce’s words: “As we listened to radio reports and called to various sections of the country for the on-the spot reports in inner cities, our moderation weakened and our alarm hardened.”

Racism had led directly to King’s assassination, and not only had white psychiatry consistently failed to take racism seriously; it had, in ways both subtle and overt, enabled it.

The decision was thus made to organize black psychiatrists into an independent body that would use tactics of the civil rights movement to force American psychiatry to acknowledge both its own racism and its professional responsibility to address the scourge of racism in the country.

On May 8, 1969, representatives from the Black Psychiatrists of America interrupted the trustees of the American Psychiatric Association while they were eating breakfast, and presented them with a list of demands. These included a significant increase in African-American representation on APA committees, task forces, and other positions of leadership; a call for the APA to commit itself to desegregating mental health facilities; and a demand that any individual member of the society who was found to be guilty of racial discrimination be barred from practicing psychiatry.

The most fundamental demand made that morning, however, was that the profession begin to think about racism differently than it had in the past. Racism did not just happen because some bad people had hateful beliefs. Unlike many of their liberal white colleagues, who were fascinated by the potential mental pathologies of individual racists, the Black Psychiatrists of America (drawing on new sociological work) insisted that racism was built into the systems and structures of American life, including psychiatry itself. For this reason, as some of them put it in 1973, “institutional change (as opposed to personality change) are needed to root out and eliminate racism.”

Chester Pierce—the founding president of the Black Psychiatrists of America—was most concerned about the pernicious influence of one institution in particular: television. By 1969, virtually every American family home had at least one set. As one commentator at the time observed: “American homes have more television sets than bathtubs, refrigerators or telephones; 95 percent of American homes have television sets.”

Small children of all ethnicities were growing up glued to TV screens. This worried Pierce, because he was not just a psychiatrist but also a professor of early childhood education. And from a public health standpoint, he believed, television was a prime “carrier” of demeaning messages that undermined the mental health of vulnerable young black children in particular. In fact, it was Pierce who first coined the now widely used term microaggression, in the course of a study in the 1970s that exposed the persistent presence of stigmatizing representations of black people in television commercials.

It seemed to Pierce, though, that the same technology that risked creating another generation of psychically damaged black children could also be used as a radical therapeutic intervention. As he told his colleagues within the Black Psychiatrists of America in 1970: “Many of you know that for years I have been convinced that our ultimate enemies and deliverers are the education system and the mass media.” “We must,” he continued, “without theoretical squeamishness over correctness of our expertise, offer what fractions of truth we can to make education and mass media serve rather than to oppress the black people of this country.”

Knowing how Pierce saw the matter explains why, shortly after the founding of the Black Psychiatrists of America, he became personally involved in helping to design a new kind of television show targeted at preschool children.

The show had had originally been conceived as a novel way of bringing remedial education into the homes of disadvantaged children, especially children of color. Pierce, though, saw a different kind of potential for a show like this: one that could directly counter and counteract the racist messages prevalent in the media of his time. The issues for him were even more personal than they might otherwise have been: at the time, he had a 3-year-old daughter of his own. He thus agreed to serve as a senior advisor on the show, working especially closely with the public television producer Joan Ganz Cooney, one of its two creators (the other was the psychologist Lloyd Morrisett).

In 1969, the show aired on public television stations across the country for the first time. It was called “Sesame Street.”

It was not only the most imaginative educational show for preschoolers ever designed: it was also, quite deliberately, populated with the most racially diverse cast that public television had ever seen. All the multi-ethnic characters— adults, children and puppets — lived, worked, and played together on a street in an inner-city neighborhood, similar (if in an idealized way) to the streets in which many minority children were growing up.

Each show opened with scenes of children of different races playing together. Episodes featured a strong black male role model (Gordon, a school teacher), his supportive wife, Susan (who later is offered the opportunity to develop a profession of her own), a good- hearted white storekeeper (Mr. Hooper) and more.

Within a few years, Hispanic characters moved into the neighborhood as well. As Loretta Moore Long (who played Susan) later reflected: ‘“Sesame Street’ has incorporated a hidden curriculum … that seeks to bolster the Black and minority child’s self-respect and to portray the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural world into which both majority and minority child are growing.”

The radical nature of this “hidden curriculum” did not go unnoticed. In May 1970, a state commission in Mississippi voted to not air the show on the state’s newly launched public TV network: the people of Mississippi, said some legislators, were not yet “ready” to see a show with such an interracial cast. The state commission reversed its decision after the originally secret vote made national news — though it took 22 days to decide to do so.

“Sesame Street” would go on to become the most successful children’s show of all time. Over time, though, the radical mental health agenda fueling its creation was largely forgotten. Later critics would instead increasingly suggest that the show, as a straightforward experiment in early education, benefited white middle-income children more than its primary target audience of disadvantaged minorities, and in that sense had arguably partly misfired.

Chester Pierce, however, never lost sight of the hidden curriculum that, for him, had always been at the heart of “Sesame Street.” “Early childhood specialists,” he reflected in 1972, “have a staggering responsibility … in producing planetary citizens whose geographic and intellectual provinces are as limitless as their all-embracing humanity.”

What mattered most about “Sesame Street” was not the alphabet songs, the counting games or the funny puppets. What mattered most was its vision of an integrated society where everyone was a friend and treated with respect.

The program had originally been a radical experiment in the use of mass media to give the youngest generation of Americans their first experience of what Martin Luther King Jr. had famously called the Beloved Community: one based on justice, equal opportunity and positive regard for one’s fellow human beings, regardless of race, color or creed.

[churinne]

joker game x Pokemon AU Part 2! [ Part 1 ]

Guess who managed to finish this up in a single four hour sitting. 

This is like try 20 of redoing tags so it will show up please help me

As always, headcanons under the cut

Fukumoto

He spent the majority of his pre-viridian gym days in sinnoh, and has been literally every trainer class under the sun. He’s been a chef, a PI, a reporter. The rest of the gym members keep finding clothes in his closet for other classes. 

He’s the favorite of all the pokemon in the gym. It would appear that he has won all their hearts through his cooking.

He likes to take on his different ‘characters’ and go challenge the Viridian Gym for fun. It stopped working after the first two times.

For whatever reason, Fukumoto is comically bad at making pokeblocks. Everything other dish he can make with no problem, but for whatever reason, most of his pokeblocks are borderline inedible.

Fukumoto keeps making increasingly risky bets with the challengers of the gym. He hasn’t lost yet, but stop that fukumoto, don’t bet the whole gym, we need to keep our jobs.

His battle style is largely about playing with the odds, and making sure that he is almost guaranteed to hit, and making sure the opponent is unlikely to even get off any damage. (Parafusion is one of his favorite methods)

I completely screwed up and got all my pokemon mixed up, but his mega pokemon is an Absol- because one of it’s possible abilities is super luck! Like Fukumoto, it is not very talkative. It does not like playing along with all of Fukumoto’s ‘characters’, and seemingly gets a little embarrassed when it gets caught up in it.

Girafarig: A pokemon Fukumoto picked up while working at Hotel Grand Lake in sinnoh. It is pretty mellow, and is more than happy to help out. It is a little nervous in a fight however, so fukumoto tends to use it more as an errand pokemon. It is also rather picky, so Fukumoto uses it for taste testing.

Munchlax: is a baby pokemon that ended up following fukumoto home from the market one day and simply refuses to leave. Fukumoto doesn’t mind, since it is more than happy to eat anything he makes, but he can’t help but wonder if munchlax will turn on him if he finds a chef who better fits its tastes…

Zorua: used to belong to Odagiri, but was too fond of causing trouble. Fukumoto is more willing to play along with it’s acts, and unlike absol, zorua adores pretending to be other characters. 

Odagiri

Odagiri was kicked out of the police academy and spent a good few years trying out whatever worked for him. He eventually became a gym trainer at the Saffrom city gym, though he was becoming rather disillusioned by it before Yuuki offered him a position at the Viridian gym

He spent most of his childhood growing up in the sevii islands, where like in the novels/anime, Chirizu took care of him before eloping and leaving.

He has a generally balanced fighting style, and his one skill is that he is extremely good at raising pokemon to maximize their potential. The one drawback is that he can’t handle any troublemaking pokemon, mostly because he cant quite seem to gain enough authority to make them listen to him. (For example, Sakuma’s torchic is the worst training experience he has ever had.)

Chikorita: A last gift from Chirizu before she had left, but Odagiri has never been able to use it in battle due to it being a Johto pokemon. Even in the Viridian gym, the fact that Chikorita has poor stats (IVs, natures, etc.) means that is never able to see battle. It knows Odagiri well and tries to be supportive, seemingly trying to fill the role Chrizu had.

Zigzagoon: One of Odagiri’s more reliable pokemon, it offers a lot of emotional support to Odagiri as well. It isn’t as attuned to Odagiri’s emotions as Chikorita, but it just happens to do the right thing at the right time. It is a bit of a sore loser.

Gallade: Odagiri’s main battler. He also uses it to directly communicate with people via psychic powers. Much like Odagiri, it is very taciturn.

Amari

No one at the gym really knows what Amari was before he joined the gym. The bets are split between a rich man and a pokemon breeder, and at this point, expectations are so high that he’s a little embarrassed to admit that he was just a fisherman. (He was fishing in the credits of the OVA)

He is the other favorite of the pokemon at the gym, second only to fukumoto. He seems to help the pokemon through all their spats.

During his time in Hoenn, he lived in Lilycove city and spent a lot of his time doing pokemon contests with his milotic. However, it is unclear if it is Milotic or him that is actually doing the charming.

His battle style is focused on weather based teams. His main team is a rain team, but he’s working on a sun team as well.

Milotic: He caught milotic as a feebas because amari seems like the kind of person who would be dedicated enough catch it and maximize it’s beauty stat. It is extremely prideful and will push itself a little too hard if it loses.

Quagsire and pyukumuku: “They’re round and I love them”.

Houndour/Houndoom: It is extremely friendly with Amari, and shares his tendency for charming women. Despite this, Amari has not been able to get it to mega evolve, which bothers him just a little. After Amari takes in Emma, it appears that Houndoom’s protective instinct kicked in and allowed it to mega evolve

Thanks for reading I am very tired. Please point out any and all typos and fight me on all of these headcanons because i have been in a trance for the last hour as I typed these. Part 3 eventually.

[mergguest]

Post Election 2016

Post Election 2016 – What Do We Do Now?

A sermon by Meredith Guest

Delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Petaluma on December 11, 2016

 Luke 6:27-36

 If the recent election of Donald Trump was anything, it was a slap in the face to every progressive, liberal minded American. And make no mistake, it was an intentional slap in the face; that was a great part of the man’s appeal to those who voted for him. And so we, like the cast of “Hamilton,” the diverse Americas who are alarmed and anxious that [this] new administration will not protect the hard-won rights of the last 50 years have been intentionally slapped upside the head with a 2x4 branded with the name of Trump. With our ears still ringing, our eyes still smarting, our values run down like so much road kill, what do we do now?

 In the passage from Luke I just read, Jesus says, if someone slaps you upside the head, you are to willingly offer up the other side for equal treatment. But like so much of the Bible – most of it, actually – this isn’t to be taken literally. What he means is: you are to be the one where the violence stops; that’s why you turn the other cheek. What I have to decide now is: Will I be the person who chooses to let the violence stop with me? And what you have to decide is: Will you be the one who willingly and freely chooses to have the violence stop with you.

 It goes without saying, this is not our default setting. When slapped upside the head, we are programmed to fight or flight, and unless you plan to leave the country, there’s really nowhere to run; this guy is president. But I must remind you that fight or flight is also the default setting of a gerbil, and if being human means anything, surely it means we are not limited to the default setting of gerbils. It’s one thing to hold to the principles of Unitarian Universalism when YOUR guy holds the reins of power, but what about when evil is at the gate? What do we do then?

 1. For one, start looking for ways to make peace.

 Mark Lilla in the NYT writes: “But the fixation on diversity in our schools and in the press has produced a generation of liberals and progressives narcissistically unaware of conditions outside their self-defined groups, and indifferent to the task of reaching out to Americans in every walk of life.” (Mark Lilla, NYT, 11/18/16) The only remaining slur acceptable in polite company is “redneck;” and if children are not present, it is often accompanied by an expletive.

 The poet Adrienne Rich has said, “When someone with the authority of a teacher describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing.” This quote used to apply to me and to others in the LGBT community. But not anymore. Now our faces are everywhere you look, while the faces of working class Americans, those faces that used to be THE face of America, are disappearing, rendering them anonymous and their lives invisible.

 I once had a child in my class with severe cerebral palsy. She was my student in 4th, 5th and 6th grades. Her name was Johanna and she was a wonderful student. One summer just before the beginning of school, Johanna’s mother recommended I meet with an occupational therapist that they had been seeing. I agreed, and in our meeting he asked me to describe the classroom and Johanna’s place in it. After I did so, he looked at me and said, “This child’s not a member of your classroom. She’s little more than a fixture. No meaningful interaction happens between her and the other members of the class…” This was a “take no prisoners” kind of guy, but I took his words to heart and came up with a plan. I cleared it with the mother and soon after school began, the class did a group challenge. Privately I gave Johanna information that the class had to get from her without the assistance of her aid or any other adult. Only when they got this information would they be allowed to go to recess. It wasn’t easy, but they got the information, went to recess and after we did a few similar things, pretty soon I saw students interacting with her in ways they never had before.

 It seems to me we, as a nation, have a similar group challenge. While the well educated, well connected and well endowed have enjoyed the fruits of the modern economy, Donald Trump has sounded a take-no-prisoners wake-up call for those with ears to hear and eyes to see that a whole group of others have been left behind. While technically part of the country, they are like the handicapped kid in the wheelchair who nobody ever talks to and everybody tries to ignore. But in this case, a lot more than recess is at stake.

 One of my sources for this talk is the book Deer Hunting With Jesus by Joe Bageant. I’ve also drawn from interviews with J.D. Vance as well as his book Hillbilly Elegy. I have read both, and I highly recommend Deer Hunting with Jesus. Bageant grew up in a small town in Virginia. After high school he went off to college, became a successful journalist and lived for many years in New York City. When talking to his many liberal friends, he would often be asked why rural southerners so often voted in ways that were contrary to their self interests. Finally, toward the end of his career, he moved back to his hometown and set about trying to answer that question. Deer Hunting With Jesus is the result.

 When Bageant interviews his old classmates, one of the things he discovers is that none of them knows a liberal. Their own thoughts, their own views and opinions are constantly being reflected back to them and little or nothing to the contrary has a chance to get through. Their lives and the milieu in which they live are insular.

 But that’s not just true of conservatives.

 During the election I saw a FB post in which a person demanded, “Anyone voting for Trump, please unfriend me.” Pretty soon, we’ll all be living inside intellectual and ideological gated communities where the only people we talk to and hear from are those who think like us.

 One of the best things about being a financial failure as an author is that economic necessity forced me out into the world. Had I been successful, I would have sequestered my big old queer self in my cozy little study and spent my days happily writing lies. As it is, I have to work, and so, at least 3 days a week, I substitute teach in schools all over Petaluma from grades 3-12. As a result, hundreds of children get to rub shoulders with a real, live, breathing transsexual who, unlike the ones they see in the media, is not rich, famous or sexy. And whenever I can, I make it a point to interact with the kids in their Mossy Oak camo sweatshirts, because I am likely to be the only transsexual person they ever get a chance to be around, and I want them to know I think they matter, and that I care about them. They don’t always warm up to me. They certainly don’t all like me. They can be cruel. But this is what I can do. I can reach across the divide and offer myself in friendship.

 And so can you, but to do that we’ll all have to:

 - Stop having a litmus test for who is and who is not worthy of conversation. We need to be talking with racists. In the Nov. 26 issue of the NYT, there is an op/ed piece entitled “Why I Left White Nationalism” by Derek Black. Mr. Black grew up in a white nationalist family — David Duke was his godfather, and his father started Stormfront, the first major white nationalist website — and he was once considered the bright future of the movement. What changed him is – and I will let him speak for himself – “ I began attending a liberal college where my presence prompted huge controversy. Through many talks with devoted and diverse people there — people who chose to invite me into their dorms and conversations rather than ostracize me — I began to realize the damage I had done. Ever since, I have been trying to make up for it.

 - We need to stop policing speech like English teachers police grammar. It just shuts people down.

 - We are going to have to engage in forbidden conversations, e.g. immigration, abortion, gun rights, religion. And when we engage in these conversations, we must do unto others as we would have them do unto us; which is to say: listen, be curious, be open to their side of the issue, and be prepared to alter or change our own views, and look for any and all common ground. There IS common ground there, but we’ll never find it if we don’t talk to one another.

2. We need to be more critical of our own thinking and aware of our biases.

 Under the best of circumstances, even for well educated people, it is hard to be aware of and critical of our own presuppositions and the presuppositions of our group.

 I remember on day saying to a little boy in my class, When you meet the right girl… and later, I thought to myself, how do you know he’s not gay? It’s so hard to see those heteronormative presuppositions, but once I did, whenever I had cause to say something similar, I would say, When you meet that special person…It was easy to fix, once I recognized the unconscious presupposition.

 Being an educator, I’m especially aware of the presuppositions and prejudices that guide so much of our thinking about school.

 The poet, thinker and social prophet, Wendell Berry has said, “A powerful superstition of modern life is that people and conditions are improved inevitably by education.” (W. Berry, What Are People For, pg. 24) (I know a high school principle who puts a quote by Oscar Wilde at the end of her emails: You can never be overdressed or overeducated.) He then goes on to tell the story of Nate Shaw, the pseudonym for a black farmer born in Alabama in 1885. When he finishes paying a moving and eloquent tribute to this remarkable man, he asks: So do you think Nate Shaw would have inevitably been improved by education? Clearly the answer is no. And there are all sorts of successful people, some of whom have made tremendous contributions, who have not been well educated. Would they have inevitably been improved by education? That’s not a given. In fact, as Berry points out, if life on the planet is destroyed, it will almost certainly be by the college educated.

 One unfortunate, even dangerous, consequence of this superstition about education is it has led to the denigration of physical labor and the people who do it.

 When I went from being a school bus driver to being a substitute teacher, I realized just how differently people see those two occupations and the people who do them. Never mind that, as a bus driver, I made more money and had more authority over the children in my charge, my movement from a blue collar worker to a white collar worker was initially viewed with considerable suspicion by many “white collar” teachers.

I recently saw one of those inspirational posters hanging on the wall of a middle school classroom. It began: “I can be…” then went on to list a slew of possible occupations that were colorfully inscribed on a black background in the shape of a light bulb, symbolizing, I assume, that these were occupations of the enlightened or occupations that would bring enlightenment – or, probably, both. Here’s a quick rundown of some of the occupations listed: software developer, doctor, meteorologist, airplane pilot, anthropologist, microbiologist, epidemiologist, astronaut, cartographer, network analyst, medical scientist, computer programmer, veterinarian, zoologist, geographer, archeologist, architect, conservation scientist and so on down to chemist. I found it ironic that nowhere on this classroom inspirational poster did I find the occupation of – teacher.

 Our life on this planet depends on 6 inches of topsoil and the occupation most directly involved with the stewardship of this vital resource, farming, is not, and will likely never be, on the list of things we want our students to aspire to. But the truth is, we could lose every occupation on that poster, and we’d still survive, but without 6 inches of topsoil and the knowledge of how to farm it, we’re just so many skeletons littering the face of the planet.

We need to recognize that no matter how enlightened we imagine ourselves to be, we are not immune to unexamined presuppositions, biases, prejudices and even superstitions just like those damn conservatives.

 3. “We must be able to imagine ourselves as peacemakers,” the great poet and prophet Wendell Berry writes. “The serious question is whether you're going to become a warrior community and…I think the only antidote to that is imagination. You have to develop your imagination to the point that permits sympathy to happen. You have to be able to imagine lives that are not yours or the lives of your loved ones or the lives of your neighbors. You have to have at least enough imagination to understand that if you want the benefits of compassion, you must be compassionate. If you want forgiveness you must be forgiving.

It's a difficult business, being human.” (Wendell Berry, Sojourners magazine July 2004)

 Contrary to what the pundits say; contrary to the vote talley, there are not 2 Americas; there is only one America, and we are all its citizens. We need to eschew the narrative of us vs them. It is only us; it’s only we.

 There’s a beautiful story of what that looks like, but – trigger warning – I’m going to have to read from the Bible again.

 Luke 19:41 - Jesus weeps over Jerusalem.

 So Jesus climbs to a high place where he can look down on the city of Jerusalem, who’s name in the ancient tongue is “city of peace.” Say what you will about the man, but he was not an idiot. He knew the fate that awaited him there; knew that, short of a miracle, the residents of that city, many who had flocked to hear him in the early days, would turn on him like a pack of hyenas; knew that the leaders would finally succeed in what they had been trying to do for years: kill him. He looks down on the city where he knows he will be murdered; and he weeps for it. Now maybe he wept for himself as well; for his followers who he loved and who he knew would be so heartbroken and bereft without him; maybe he wept for the failure of his vision, his hope, his dream for a different kind of Kingdom. Surely, if only in our imaginations, we can allow him that. But Luke shows him weeping for the city itself: “My people, my people…”

 If we are going to rise above the default setting of gerbils and be the people where the violence stops, this, it seems to me, must become our prayer: “My people, my people…” Not just “our people,” not “those people,” certainly not “you people” – My people. It is in this prayer, it is in this position, this stance, that we become the peace for which we pray. “My people, my people…”

 But that’s not the end of the story, because the next thing that happens, the very next thing…well, let me read it:

 Luke 19:45 - Jesus cleanses the temple.

 This passage requires a bit of exegesis to understand fully. Contrary to what the text would seem to indicate, it is likely that Jesus was not upset with the money changers themselves. The exchange of coinage was essential to the operation of the Temple. When Jesus overturns the tables of the money changers, he is, in effect, shutting down the normal operation of the Temple. Why? Because beginning with Herod and continuing after his death in 6 BCE, the temple was, in addition to its legitimate cultic function, the center of local collaboration with Rome. The temple, which was to be the house of worship of the God of liberation, of justice and mercy had come to be run by officials, installed by Rome, who colluded with the Empire for their own profit. The Empire, in turn, followed the economic rules of the domination system, which, briefly, was rule of the many by the few, economic exploitation, with religious legitimation. In other words, the Temple then like the church now, especially, as we saw in the election, the evangelical church, has become the handmaiden of the Empire, pronouncing divine sanction on the status quo. This is the temple Jesus shuts down. And he’s not exactly peaceful about it either.

 You know those airline miles you’ve been accumulating? You might want to save them. I just gave a bunch ours to Lia so she can attend the Million Woman March in DC on Jan. 21. “I need to do it for my daughter,” she said. You know your bucket list, you might need to dump it out and replace it with direct acts of resistance. You know that vacation you were planning? You might need to be prepared to sacrifice it for something bigger.

 And then, you know what happens next according to Luke? Jesus is found teaching.

 Look, I know you’re not biblical people, but you’ve got to admit, this is not a bad program: grief, direct action, teaching.  But I cannot emphasize enough: it all depends on our willingness and our ability to pray the prayer: “My people, my people…” And I hope you will hold that prayer in your hearts and your minds as we sing our closing hymn: “We’ll Build A Land.”

 AMEN